


As Luck Would Have It

by lizette_antoinette



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst and Humor, Multi, Romance, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-06 18:25:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3144131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizette_antoinette/pseuds/lizette_antoinette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During Shuutoku’s summer training camp Takao pushes his luck with Shin-chan. (TakaMido)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_-xoxoxo-_

Midorima Shintarou gets up at 5.30 a.m. sharp. His alarm barely makes a few desperate squeaks before he opens his eyes like a robot, whose switch had been activated, and turns it off without even looking. He gets his glasses and puts them on – always with his rights hand. Next he goes on to wash his face and finally shoves himself into his neatly folded gym clothes. Then he goes for a run.

Every day without fait. Even during the summer training camp.

It never fails to wake Takao up either.

“How the hell are you so energetic in the mornings?” Takao grumbles as he tears his face away from the pillow. His eyelids feel heavy, his hair is definitely a mess.

Midorima spares him a disapproving glance while swiftly combing his own hair. “It’s because you are such a lazy ass that your improvement is so slow.” Green locks fall obediently in even strands, damn them.

Takao winces, but recovers right away.

“Don’t be so cold to me, Shin-chan. You were so passionate last night,” he offers probing himself up on the elbows and flashing a grin at Midorima’s reflection.

“What are you spouting?”

“The practice obviously, the evening practice. Heh, what are you imagining Shin-chan?”

Midorima grunts and fumbles with his bandages. Takao watches him with a yawn, amused. A little revenge for waking him up at this ungodly hour.

“Why do you even bother, if you’re gonna take those things off before the shower anyway?”

Apparently that doesn’t even warrant a response. Midorima wraps the last finger in the protective strip and heads for the door with a ‘hmpf!’.

“Don’t get mad, Shin-chan. You’ll get wrinkles at early age.”

“Moron. I’m off.”

“Right, I’ll be waiting where you left me for you to get back, darling.”

The other boy pauses at the door, a soft shade of pink touching his cheeks rights under the glasses. “You are such a fool.”

“And you are such a tsundere.”

_-xoxoxo-_

Takao watches the door close before throwing himself back onto the pillow. Midorima won’t be back for another hour and a half, just when the rest of the members of the Shuutoku team actually start waking up. He could still get some rest, but all sleep is gone. Instead Takao stares vacantly into the ceiling. The ceiling stares back at him, unfamiliar and uninviting expanse of white at the rundown hot springs resort where Shuutoku holds their annual training camp of death.

The room is small and the air smells vaguely of mint toothpaste and Midorima. Takao inhales deeply, trying to separate those two scents and to absorb the latter one.

He doesn’t know when exactly it started. And honestly he doesn’t really care. All he knows is – he isn’t _gay_. He’s chased enough skirts in the middle school to know that much. He doesn’t want to go out with a guy either. He doesn’t want to kiss another boy.

He wants to kiss _Midorima_.

To kiss him, push him down and tease him out of his skin.

It would be so much fun, Takao could probably die peacefully afterwards. Because let’s face it, what are the chances of surviving after pushing down _that_ guy.

Takao drags himself out of the bed before his mind can wonder off into more detail. His clothes are a wrinkled bundle at the foot of his bed. He couldn’t be bothered yesterday after that hellish training. A crying shame, his muscles feel even more painfully sore this morning. Still stiff from sleep Takao’s whole body groans with every move, pleading for mercy.

The original plan was the bathroom, but Takao gives up halfway through and instead lands on the bed. Only this time on Midorima’s. It’s still warm from Midorima’s body heat. Not much surprise there. It’s the middle of August, the temperature is rising through the roof and everyone is going crazy with heat. They sleep in their underwear but the humid air still feels like a stuffy woolen blanket.

Right now though, Takao doesn’t think he minds the fact. The sheet is still warm and just a tad damp from sweat. Shin-chan slept here all night in just his boxers and a whimsical sleeveless shirt. With those long languid limbs of his. Seriously, he’s like a model. Could easily give that golden-haired clown of their former genius team a run for his money.

Takao feels a familiar twist in the pit of his stomach and bites his lip. He’ll be spent before the practice even starts, but who the hell cares? _Shin-chan…._ he murmurs into the pillow. His hand pushes down the waistband of his boxers. Before long it settles into a familiar rapid pace. His mind is racing _‘can’t make a mess…. this is freaking embarrassing..’_. But who is he kidding? He's already too far gone to stop now. Forget teasing, he’d strip Shin-chan off his clothes and kiss him all over. That guy is so stubborn, he probably wouldn’t let out a moan for the life of him. But Takao would bet he'd make his breath seed up, if he worked at it. Maybe he would even make Midorima whisper his name. He’d spread his legs and stroke him down there until it was too much, and then.. and then….

The image of Midorima's well-trained body pops up readily in his mind, but even more than that what draws his attention is the other boy's face. Takao pictures it twisted with all kinds of emotions he has never actually seen Midorima make. He freeze-frames on the view of Midorima biting his lip in desperation as Takao furiously buckles his hips into his grip the last few times.

Afterwards he just lies there spent, breathing heavily into Midorima's pillow. The jolts of pleasure that are still running through his body are now giving way to yet another familiar feeling - guilt. Midorima is a friend, a team mate, a comrade in arms, and Takao has just done a banged up job of turning him into his personal jerk off material. Way to go!

It's not even a proper morning yet and Takao already feels thoroughly exhausted. He tries psyching himself up for the day ahead but drifts off midway. The images return, but this time they are more mingled, confused. Midorima’s flushed cheeks, his sweaty hair sticking to the pillow, limbs groping, clinging. At one point Shin-chan in his sleeveless shirt somehow ends up straddling Takao, licking and tugging suggestively at his ear. _Ouch,.. too much!_ “Shin-chan!..”

“What the hell are you doing?”

…

Takao cracks his eyes open, feeling disoriented. The image of Midorima’s flustered face refuses to budge, overlapping with another image of a very angry Midorima.

“The hell…” Takao mumbles, stupefied.

“That should be my line. What the hell are you doing on my bed?”

Midorima pushes up his glasses and finally releases Takao’s ear. Takao falls back into the bed, finally awake. His ear is burning – Midorima practically tugged him out of bed by it. But that’s hardly the problem. Before the afterglow of his morning activities carried him off to sleep again he hadn't even bothered to clean himself off. Now Takao realizes with growing horror that his hand is still tucked down there, currently covered in all sorts of evidence. He knows he needs to say something, but it feels like his mouth is effectively turning into a jelly. His brain is a short circuit of _‘Shin-chan saw me... holly fuck!... Shin-chan saw me’_.

“Shin-chan… what are you doing here?” he blurts out intelligently.

“It’s half past seven, idiot. I’m back from my jog,” Midorima narrows his eyes at him suspiciously until Takao wishes the ground would just split open and swallow him whole together with the damned bed. “You. You were _meowing_ in your sleep. Something about riding. Explain yourself.”

 _Well, fuck!.._ So much for ‘I'll be waiting where you left me’.

_-tbc-_


	2. Chapter 2

_-xoxoxo-_

The dining room is filled with Shuutoku zombies. Compared with the buzz of anticipation of their first day, today everyone is just dragging their aching legs quietly, still not recovered from yesterdays torture. The room feels more like a ward full of dying soldiers than a hot spring resort.

Takao wrinkles his nose at the picture and gets in line for his share of food. Midorima is right behind him. Takao can feel his presence linger over his shoulder and tries to fight off a blush. This morning was seriously screwed up. He somehow wiggled his way out of explaining the “meowing about riding” incident, but that didn’t help the situation much. Cuddling in bed by himself, the soiled hands and boxers, the rapid breathing – even Shin-chan wasn’t thick enough not to connect the dots. How he managed to convince Midorima that it was just a little accident of morning wood getting out of control (and had no relevance to either Midorima’s bed or his person) was beyond even Takao himself. A stroke of luck, perhaps. ‘Cause it was certainly no thanks to his own wits. What’s with the _“Sorry, Shin-chan, it’s that time of a month for me.”_

_Takao laughed lamely at his own joke. A hollow sound in the atmosphere filled with sudden tension._

_Midorima’s eyes narrowed dangerously, his hand now tightly gripping Takao’s shirt._

_“What do you mean. You are not a woman.”_

_Oh, Shin-chan. How dense can you be?_

_Takao sighed. “No. Of course I’m not a woman.” He didn’t want to_ explain _himself on top of it all. He wished Midorima would just punch him already, or yell at him, walk out on him, or at least look like he got it. “I’m a_ guy _, Shin-chan._ That’s _why. Get it already! You’re a guy too, right? You have those moments.”_

_Midorima stared at him for another moment. Then suddenly released Takao’s shirt like it was about to bite him and went bright red._

_Shit! Didn’t he realize it even up until that point? Takao cursed himself inwardly for not holding his tongue. Was that what they called digging one’s own grave?_

_“N-no I don’t,” Midorima stuttered, “ Certainly not in someone else’s bed. That’s just disgusting!”_

_They didn’t have much time to ‘discuss’ it further. Not with everyone rushing down the hall for their breakfast anyway._

Midorima looks royally pissed even now. Not that Takao would hold his breath for any other treatment. _‘That’s just disgusting’_ is still ringing in his ears. He digs through his warm rice wondering what Shin-chan would say of he knew the active role he played in Takao’s morning fantasies. All things considered maybe he too should get one of those hideous lucky items they advertise in the daily horoscopes. As a token to the merciful kami for at least sparing his life.

They get the table by the windows. Some senpais are surprisingly accommodating to the Shuutoku’s ace. The ace in turn chews on his omelet roll and stares at the beach outside ignoring the world around him.

Takao swallows a mouthful of rise and watches Midorima mutilate his bowl of pickled vegetables. He just can’t leave him alone.

“That’s no good, Shin-chan. Gotta eat your veggies to grow into a big boy.”

“Shut up. Don’t talk to me.”

“Oh don’t be like that! Here,” against his better judgment Takao grabs a baby carrot with his chopsticks and stuffs it into Midorima’s mouth, “open wide now, Shin-chan!”

Midorima looks so shocked his jaw actually does drop open. Then he snaps back to his senses and pushes Takao away as if he’d stabbed him with those chopsticks in the eye.

Takao’s smaller body rocks back.

The force of the blow knocks down some dishes between them. The miso soup is spilled. Its bawl rolls along the table until it crashes to the floor.

“The fuck are you doing?!” Midorima’s eyes look scary.

Belatedly Takao realizes that the whole dining room went deadly quiet. The eyes of the whole team are on them.

Takao wishes they’d go stuff themselves and leave the two of them alone.

“Geez, you’re still mad about this morning?” he says quietly. “You could have my bed, if it bothers you that much, you know.”

Midorima pushes up his glasses but doesn’t look up at him.

“It’s not just this morning. You are constantly like that. Don’t be so weird, Takao.”

He _is_ still mad. It’s no wonder, really. No matter how dense Shin-chan might be, cuming on their bed would make anyone feel weirded out. Especially a stern guy like Midorima. Takao berates himself for not apologizing properly. But it’s not like he can say, “Sorry, I just have this little crush on you” in his defense. And it’s not like he can say it (or anything at all) in front of all those guys either.

“Will do, Shin-chan,” he says finally, gathering the remains of his breakfast back onto his tray, “but you better eat the veggies anyway, rice alone is not good for your health. Here, you can have my share too.”

Takao takes the tray to the used dishes area and flees before Midorima gets a chance to throw his bowl back into his face.

_-xoxoxo-_

At practice they are divided into two teams set to play each other. Takao is sent to mark Midorima, but is overpowered so completely even he feels disgusted with himself.

Midorima is at his best. It never ceases to amaze Takao how an outside shooter like him can be so good at defense. His long limbs are everywhere. His body might be big, but his movements are light and precise. He stops their captain’s dreadful dunk like it’s a child’s play.

Takao can’t help but stare. He manages to squeeze out “Good job,” but the Midorima just walks past him like an iceberg. Such overwhelming presence. If they once were to become enemies, he wouldn’t be able to lift a finger, hawk’s eyes or no eyes.

Takao thinks all that and wants to strangle himself.

…

“You know, he actually did eat it.”

It’s three hours into practice. Shuutoku is relentlessly perfecting the basics and Takao feels like his legs are gonna fall off from the constant running around. His palms sting from hitting endless passes and his heart is beating somewhere in his throat.

So it’s no wonder he doesn’t manage to connect the dots straight away.

“Mhmpf..?” Takao mumbles around the water bottle in his mouth.

Miyaji plops himself on the bench for their five-minute break furiously rubbing his bleached hair with a towel and smirking at Takao from under its folds. “I’m saying your Shin-chan ate it all. The carrots and everything. Aren’t you a good influence on our ace.”

This guy’s got way too much energy, prying into someone else’s business. From his spot Takao can see Midorima drying his face and neck on the other side of the court. Since the training began he hasn’t spared so much as a glance into Takao’s direction.

“What do you mean _my_ Shin-chan,” he grumbles.

“Oh come on, man, don’t be like that. Sure, you had a little fight, but it’s not like you’re a couple after a breakup. I mean, it’s more surprising that he didn’t kill you earlier.”

This time Takao actually turns to face his teammate. The combination of ‘couple’ and ‘breakup’ having caught his attention.

“What?” he asks slowly.

“Heh, you know, our guys were actually making bets. How long it would take for that prick to run out of patience and kick your ass… or something like that. I mean, that guy’s even scary to look at, but you tease him like he’s a cute little puppy. Why the hell he hasn’t murdered you yet is beyond me.”

The whistle marks the end of the short break. Raising stamina is next on the menu. Which basically translates into death by exhaustion. But Takao’s legs somehow feel lighter. ‘Scary to look at’ his ass. Those idiots might really see him as some kind of lion-tamer, but Takao knows better. Shin-chan is actually very honest and caring. He’s just good at hiding it, sometimes even from himself. He eats vegetables that he hates just because Takao gives him his share and he goes to watch his former teammates’ matches when he things no one is looking.

It’s not just his looks that Takao likes.

“Hey Miyaji-san,” he calls after the blond as they head back for the court, “how long was your bet for?”

“I gave you two weeks. The longest anyone bet on.”

It’s been about four months since the beginning. Gotta keep up the good work.

He’ll go talk to Shin-chan after this. Maybe a little reward for a job well done on those veggies is in order.

_-tbc-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually a re-post of a story that was written way back when the only information available about the Shuutoku players other than Midorima, Takao, and maybe Ootsubu included not much more than their names, so I pretty much had to go and make up their personalities myself. Hence, Miyaji might seem slightly OOC. I did my best to correct it now that we know what a cranky fellow he really is, but I didn't want to alter the story too much. So I guess, what I'm saying is... consider yourselves warned.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably my favorite OTP in the whole KuroBasu universe. But I'll never forgive Tadatoshi for those hideous orange uniforms! Also, Shiruko was like the first thing I searched vending machines for after coming to Japan. hehe..

_-xoxoxo-_

It’s not until after dinner that Takao gets to execute his plan.

The coach has them slaving around the court well into the evening. And as if that isn’t enough, in the end those who didn’t manage to score over thirty baskets are made to run laps around the beach. By the time the dinner is served Takao is close to fainting. He’s sweated through just about every piece of clothes on his body and his breath comes out in raspy asthmatic gasps that won’t stop.

The dining room is almost empty, most of the team having already eaten and left long ago. A couple of second string players are devouring their food like they haven’t had any in a hundred years. Those are the unlucky ones that had to run as well.

Takao pokes around in his plate feeling disheartened.

Seriously now, he’s a point guard. It’s not his business to score. Being pushed around like that is a disgrace.

The food is tasteless. All he can feel is the sand crunching between his teeth. Just marvelous!

Takao gets up and heads for the showers.

_-xoxoxo-_

He fumbles a little with the shower bottles in front the door to their room. If Shin-chan is back, they’ll probably have to finish the conversation from this morning. He has to apologize. For making a mess of the other boy’s bed, for causing a scene during breakfast, for not apologizing soon enough… and for god knows what else. Takao just isn’t sure he is up for it right now. The drops of water are dripping steadily from his washed hair and onto his new and dry T-shirt creating dark spots in the soft fabric.

Finally Takao sighs and pushes the door open.

The room is dark. It takes him some time to maneuver around with the armful of toiletries and towels before he can hit the lights. The bulb blinks a few times making a static noise and then the room lights up with a warm yellow light.

It’s empty.                                   

Shin-chan hasn’t returned.

Slowly Takao discards his stuff in the corner right on the wooden floor _(Not today. He’ll clean up tomorrow. He wouldn’t deal with it right now even if it was a ticking bomb.)_ and stands in the middle of the room feeling stupid. Midorima’s bed is still undone, just the way they left it since morning which leaves Takao at a loss of what to do.

He did offer Midorima to take his bed, but it wasn’t like they agreed on it. Should he get into his own bed then? But Midorima’s sheet are still dirty from his…. no, he can’t leave it for him like this. Takao himself doesn’t even care anymore, it’s all the same to him dirty or not. He’s probably fall asleep right now even if he was hung upside down by his feet. He just doesn’t want Midorima to get angry at him again when he comes back and finds a déjà vu of Takao sleeping in his bed. He doesn’t think he can handle another fight with Shin-chan just yet.

In the end he finds himself leaning back against the door. Where did that idiot go anyway? It’s almost eleven. He can’t still be practicing and he shouldn’t be out there strolling the empty beach by himself.

 _Don’t tell me he decided not to sleep in the same room with me tonight…_ Takao grumbles and under his breath and closes his tired eyes hitting his head slightly against the door. He feels miserable and exhausted.

 _No. Not yet._ He can’t go to sleep yet. He has to find Shin-chan and make sure his grumpy tsundere is okay.

_-xoxoxo-_

Outside everything is wrapped into darkness. Restless wind is chasing puffy clouds around the sky swallowing the moon with what little light it had to offer. The air feels heavy and pregnant with rain. It makes the hair on Takao’s neck stand on edge as he makes his way through the now-deserted area of the resort.

He finally finds Midorima on the makeshift outside court the coach had them erect first thing when they arrived. The boy is sitting under the hoop rolling the ball back and forth between the long legs. The lenses of his glasses gleam slightly in the dark. His eyes behind them are two pools of black.

When he sees Takao approaching Midorima winces like something had just stung him in the ass.

“Peace offer, Shin-chan,” Takao forces a crooked smile and throws him a Shiruko drink. “Sorry, I could only get the hot one. The vending machines here are out of anything cold.”

Midorima accepts it surprisingly obediently putting the can beside him.

“It will cool down.”

“Yeah. It’s getting chilly anyway. I feel like I can finally breath again.”

“Today’s horoscope mentioned the rain, so it’s not surprising.”

“Seriously? They even predict that kind of stuff? Are they trying to put weather forecast out of business?”

“Idiot, the rain can affect your luck. Of course it’s important.”

“Well, looks like it has certainly affected mine,” Takao ponders as he plops down next to the other boy. This feels… light. Like they are back on the same page together. Just making small talk with no heavy stuff hanging in between them.

The invisible pressure that had him gripped throughout the day suddenly lifts up and Takao feels like he can finally do it. He can apologize.

“Listen… sorry about today, yeah?” he offers quietly, “I don’t wanna freak Shin-chan’s innocent hear out, so I’ll hold back on the weird stuff from now on, promise!”

Beside him Midorima goes very quiet. Well, it _is_ just like that guy not to know what to say in these kinds of moments.

“Are we good?” Takao offers helpfully, nudging him in the side.

“I… I heard you…”

“Then we are good.” he grins at Midorima and makes a move to get up."

“Not that!... I heard you this morning!”

“…What?” Takao lands back on the ground like he’d been hit with basket ball over his head. He suddenly has a very bad feeling about this rising from the bottom of his stomach.

Midorima suddenly snaps his head towards him, his gaze piercing and heavy even in the dark of the night.

“This morning. I said you were mumbling about riding. But I heard the other stuff too.”

Takao’s heart sinks somewhere below his abdomen and almost stops beating.

“What…” his throat is dry. He swallows and tries again, “What stuff?”

“I don’t want to _repeat_ it! Takao, are you one of those?... Those homo perverts?”

The fatigue that barely left him is back in full force, this time bringing a raging headache.

“It’s not like that,” he says miserably.

“Then how?”

“I.. I’m not gay, or anything. Shin-chan, I.. It’s just towards you..”

He almost whispers the last part, but his words explode like a thunderbolt. Midorima jerks back as if Takao has just slapped him. The ball rolls away with a quiet rustle when he scrambles to his feet. Takao doesn’t have to look too close to notice his distort twisted expression.

_Why? Why did it have to turn out this way? Who the hell did he wrong in his other life to deserve this?_

“Look… I’m not gonna jump you, Shin-chan.. don’t worry.”

“Just shut up! I don’t want to hear anymore.”

“Where are you going?”

“Don’t touch me!” Midorima jerks his arm away before Takao can reach out to him. “I’m just going for a stroll… I don’t want to see your face for a while.”

Takao wants to stop him. Wants to say that it’s too dangerous to hang around here by himself. That Shin-chan can have their room if he just comes back. That he’ll find some other place to sleep and won’t bother him and more…. But he doesn’t. He’s just too tired.

Shin-chan knows and finds him repulsive.

Takao doesn’t have any more strength left.

The swollen sky finally gives out under the pressure of the wind and bursts out in rainy spasms. Cold streams trickle down Takao’s neck and face. They get into his eyes and sting, but he doesn’t even attempt to wipe them off. He turns around slowly and drags his heavy body back into the inn. Into the room he shares with Shin-chan. Or shared. Shin-chan probably won’t be back to sleep here again. Three more days till the end of the camp. Takao has no idea what the hell he’ll do. Doesn’t want to think about it. It _hurts_ to think.

Instead, Takao kicks his shoes off and falls onto someone’s bed just like he is – a wet exhausted mess. He stares into the dark empty space in front of him until sleep claims him.

_-tbc-_


	4. Chapter 4

_-xoxoxo-_

Midorima wakes up from the dreamless sleep before the alarm goes off. The room around him is filled with shifting shadows and obscure shapes. He turns his head to check what time it is and winces as the stiff muscles of his neck groan in protest.

Something is off.

It floats on the edge of his still groggy mind. Not yet a formed thought, but rather a _feeling_. The feeling that something is wrong.

Midorima gropes for the clock, but finds none. In fact even a small bedside table is gone.

 _Wait. This isn’t his room. Where the hell is he? Is Takao here?_ Got to wake him up. It’s probably one of those practical jokes that fool so likes to play.

He moves to get up… and then it hits him. The images from yesterday come back flooding his mind. His soiled sheets, spilled miso soup and Takao, their confrontation on the empty basketball court, his pleading eyes full of misery… and the rain **.**

_Shit!_

Midorima groans and falls back on the mattress.

He doesn’t know how long he was walking around aimlessly after that. He probably strolled the empty beach for hours since he can still remember the feeling of his feet becoming heavy as the wet sand stuck to them up to the calves. His clothes was so drenched he could’ve easily gone swimming in them and it wouldn’t have made any difference. It still did him no good though. His head stubbornly refused to clear, thoughts mingling into a muddled confused mess.

In the end Midorima somehow made his way back to the inn but didn’t really know what to do with himself there. He couldn’t go back to the room he shared with that guy. He just _couldn’t_.

Finally, somewhere between staring at the door to their room and leaving a trail of puddles in the empty hallway he stumbled on their captain. Ootsubo made a face like he really wanted to twist someone’s neck and dragged him to his own room. No questions asked. Hell, he must’ve looked too damn pitiful for that.

Either way Midorima is not about to wallow in guilt. That muscle-head is a captain for a reason after all. It’s his business to take care of the team so let him. Right now _that_ isn’t the main problem at hand. Just like it’s not a screaming pain in his neck from spending a night on a makeshift futon either.

The problem is Takao.

How the hell is he supposed to play with the guy after their little confession time under the moon?

It’s not like Midorima is a homophobe. He’s seen Murasakibara kiss Akashi once. _(Although possibly it was another way around. The point is – he saw.)_ He noticed the way Aomine looked at Kuroko. So he’s been around the block. But this was different. It’s not just some random schoolmate or a member of the team he doesn’t particularly care about. It’s _Takao_. Yes, he calls that brat a fool, and rightfully so, but Takao has stuck to him like glue from day one. They practiced after hours together, watched DVDs of the rival teams together, he tugged along when Midorima snuck out to watch a match or two of the former Teikou regulars, he even peddled the damn rickshaw for him every day. Takao called him a friend so many times it probably rubbed off on him. Because otherwise he cannot explain what else could possibly cause this unsettling feeling.

Midorima contemplates that for a moment, then sighs and fumbles for his glasses. Ootsube is nowhere in sight so the practice has probably already begun. He doesn’t have time to think about it, he’ll just leave it at that until he actually sees Takao. With a generous dose of luck he’ll just successfully ignore him, at least until they are out of this hellish camp. He did have enough practice ignoring particularly noisy fools throughout his Teikou years after all.

_-xoxoxo-_

The practice is already well under way when Midorima finally manages to drag himself there in a semi-presentable state. It takes him a while before he actually finds his team. The local gym turns out to be empty and it’s not until Midorima rounds a few corners that he finally sees familiar splashes of orange. They are practicing outside. On the same court Takao found him yesterday.

_Oh, hell._

It feels like the pain from his neck is starting to spread to his head. He doesn’t even need a horoscope. Midorima just _knows_ today’s luck is not on his side.

“I’ll listen to your explanation later,” the coach scoffs at him and waves him off.

Like he would actually be able to explain.

Midorima steps into the court not warmed up or stretched. It doesn’t help either that everyone stops to stare at him as if he just paraded here naked. Everyone except Takao. He only shoots him a careful glance but when Midorima catches it for a moment it’s like he grabbed a lightning conductor. The tension shoots through him making him shudder as the yesterday’s events flash before him even more vividly.

From his side Takao gives him his own version of panicked look and drops the ball. It rolls in silence before the eyes of a dumbfounded team.

Ootsubo’s face darkens until it looks like there is an actual cloud hanging over his head.

“Back to practice!” he barks finally, making a few first-years jump. He grabs a ball and throws it at Midorima with such force, Midorima wouldn’t be surprised if he aimed to break his face.

_-xoxoxo-_

The practice game is a total mess.

No, this time is even worse than the other day. With the ace of the team and the point guard completely unable to cooperate they can’t score a single basket. Midorima can’t shoot. His body is too tense. There is no clear aim, no this _yes, that’s the spot!_ feeling when the basket and the tips of his fingers are perfectly aligned and he doesn’t even need to look to know he’ll make it. Instead, Midorima keeps holding on to the ball, feeling almost paralyzed.

Confused, the other members of the team are just running around uselessly and keep getting in the way until the whistle finally puts them out of their misery.

“Midorima! Takao!” the coach yells from the sidelines. “Both of you get your asses here!”

“I don’t know what happened with the two of you,” he gives them a long hard look, “and I don’t care. Get out of here and don’t come back until you’ve straighten yourselves up! The way you are now, you are just being a pain in the side.”

He usually doesn’t play the tough guy, just a grumpy old man who’s very good at strategy. But when he does get like this, even Midorima can’t withstand his glare.

They both head off the courts in silence, making their way around some bushes and onto the road that connects the outside courts with the gym until the court is out of site and they can have at least a slight bit of privacy.

Midorima shoots a sidelong glance at the boy by his side but all he sees are Takao’s traditionally messy hair. Dark locks are wet and plastered to his forehead. Midorima can see a few small drops of sweat glide down the strands and hang on the untrimmed ends.

“You need to get a haircut,” Midorima mumbles and despite himself half-expects a variation of ‘you love me just the way I am’ in return. It never comes. Instead Takao only _hn’s_ at him, not even looking his way, and busies himself with fishing for something in his jersey pocket.

 _This is tiring…_ Midorima almost opens his mouth to call the other boy out on his bullshit, but then Takao stops, almost abruptly, and turns to face him.

“Duly noted, Shin-chan,” he finally breaks the silence. “I mean, about the hair.” He goes on, pointing a finger at the tangled mess as if for emphases.

Something flashes in his hand, reflecting a stray ray of light into Midorima’s eyes. He recognizes it instantly - a can of Shiruko. Takao intercepts his look and gives him a sour grin.

“Oh this, I picked it up on the court. Figured, it cooled down already, spending a rainy night outside an’ all, so might as well put the thing to good use.” He pops the can open pressing it carefully to his lips. “Great stuff! You’ve got good taste, Shin-chan. Well, at least when it comes to drinks.”

It’s probably what the coach had in mind when he ordered them to ‘go straighten themselves up’ – talking to each other like normally, like the old times. But instead this only makes Midorima uneasy. _What… is this?.._ Takao is throwing around goofy grins, but his body language is all wrong. Forget invading personal space, he stands so far away from Midorima, it hardly looks like they even know each other. His eyes are also sharp like when he is concentrating hard on the game.

Midorima stares at him and then blurts out finally, “That drink is mine,” because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“Oh? Sorry, sorry, you can have it back.” Takao makes as if to hand him the drink, but then suddenly snatches his hand back in mock horror. “Oh No! Almost forgot. Can’t have my homo-pervert germs infecting you now.”

“Stop it!” Midorima almost yells back, the familiar insult making him wince.

The sun is so bright, it almost blinds him, aggravating his headache. And this brat! Midorima isn’t the one at fault here, so how dare he try to make him feel like he is?

“I..” he swallows and tries again. His throat is dry, he actually wouldn’t mind taking a sip. No, he has to make himself clear. “I couldn’t care less about your preferences. Yesterday I was surprised, is all. As far as I’m concerned, who you want to screw is your own business.”

“As far as you’re concerned? No, Shin-chan,” he slowly shook his head, “no no, it’s not like you caught me staring at some random guy’s ass on the street, so you can just go on minding your business like it doesn’t matter. It’s the fact that _you_ are the one I like that made you all riled up.”

“Well, who wouldn’t get riled up?”

“Right. So I figured. It’s just that, you were so freaked out yesterday you didn’t listen to another word I said. So I’ll go ahead and tell you again: I’m not gonna jump you, Shin-chan. So you can relax.”

“Oh and.. if that’s not too much comfort to you, I’ll stop bothering you altogether. Just put up with me for a few more days.”

He throws a half-finished drink into the nearby bin and heads back to the courts without turning around.

Midorima watches him flee and wonders why it is so hard to breath.

_-xoxoxo-_

The rest of the day goes by in a blur. Midorima’s headache escalates to the point where dark spots start clouding his vision. He doesn’t remember how he got through the rest of the practice, all he knows is – Ootsubo yelling in his ear wasn’t very helpful.

When the evening dusk finally brings salvation, Midorima skips dinner and heads straight for the showers. He has already skipped breakfast, seeing as he got up way after they stopped serving it, and he doesn’t remember eating lunch. His stomach growls angrily at him, as Midorima makes his way through the hallway, but he is set on ignoring it. He just doesn’t have enough energy to deal with this too.

The usually crowded showers are now empty and every step he takes echoes loudly in every corner. Midorima undresses and hisses feeling the coldness of the tiled floor bite at his feet. It suddenly makes him realize that the rest of his body is burning up. Is he sick? Did he catch a fever? It’s probably since that time… he spent so much time in the rain.

He almost trips two times before he finally gets to a shower stall. Midorima cracks the cold water on and shivers violently as the icy streams flow down his body.

His head is spinning. Midorima grabs the wall for support, but it’s all slippery and makes him slide down until he sits on the floor.

 _I need to cool down and sleep it off..._ He keeps thinking that. If only… if his head stopped hurting. He won’t be able to fall asleep this way…

It feels like his body is becoming heavy, like it’s absorbing all the water from the cold floor. The black spots before his eyes grow larger and balder until they swallow his vision whole and his mind slowly slips into the darkness.

…

It is a feeling of stinging in his cheeks that forces Midorima to crack his eyes open. His vision is still blurry and everything is like in slow motion, but he can hear a voice.

“…Shin-chan?.. Come on, man, you gotta keep it together! You hear me? Shin-chan! Jeez, you’re like a freaking pile of ice! You try to commit a lover’s suicide or something? Thanks but no thanks. Come on now, snap out of it, or I’m gonna slap you some more.”

Midorima doesn’t need to think twice to identify the voice. There is only one fool in the world who would spout that kind of nonsense at a time like this.

“Takao…” he whispers hoarsely.

“Yeah, ‘m right here. You okay? Come on, let’s take you to bed.”

He keeps on blabbing, but Midorima doesn’t really listen. All he can think of is – _he’s here.. Takao is here._ He hasn't even realized it until now, but when Takao walked away from him today, he really thought that was it. But he is here now. Midorima can feel the comforting touch of Takao’s warm hands on the small of his back and the relief washes over him like an ocean wave.

“You…. back..” he murmurs to himself.

“Huh? What about my back? You’re starting to spout nonsense, Shin-chan, that’s usually my area of expertise. Hold on, we’re gonna gettcha outta here.”

After some manipulations Takao finally manages to swing Midorima’s arm around his shoulder and slowly lift them both up.

“Fuck, you’re heavy! Wonder, if I should try a bride-style?”

Midorima coughs a few times until it feels like he’s got his voice back.

“You do that and I’m strangling you…”

Takao stares at him point blank, then cracks up like mad, filling Midorima’s ears with something that feels like he hasn’t heard for ages – the other boy’s laughter.

“Oh, Shin-chan,” he squeezes out in between the outbursts, “your dashing sense of humor is back, I see. Well, looks to me like you’re gonna make it after all.”

_-tbc-_


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's (very) slightly not worksafe.

_-xoxoxo-_

Apparently not all of his luck has run out on Midorima, since Takao somehow managed to find him _before_ the rest of the team was done with their dinner and flooded the hallways. Midorima just doesn’t think his confidence could take another blow of being dragged around helpless and naked in front of his teammates’ eyes. At least Takao had enough decency to wrap a towel around his waist, even though gods know it wasn’t an easy task.

By the time they discreetly make it back to their room the headache and the spinning aren’t gone completely, but have subsided enough for Midorima to somewhat get his senses back. His vision is still blurred around the edges, but it looks like the annoying black spots have already made the last of their appearance. Takao carefully deposits him on the bed but his ass hurts from sitting on the hard floor for so long. And most importantly – he’s _so cold_. He was so out of it before, he didn’t even realize it. But now that he’s come around some more the feeling is ransacking his whole body, making the shivers shake his body and his teeth clank. It feels like the icy water has gotten under his skin. It’s disgusting. Midorima wraps his arms around his trembling shoulders and tries to focus on something else.

It’s their room. How long hasn’t he been here? A couple of days? It feels like eternity. Midorima looks around the unmade beds and the pile of Takao’s clothes in the far corner, and the empty cans of energy drinks littering the floor and _is that a sock hanging off his alarm?_ What a pigsty! This is definitely Takao’s doing. He can’t leave that guy alone even for a minute.

Midorima sighs and steals a glance at the other boy.

Takao has his back turned on him and keeps sovereignly going through Midorima’s stuff all the time blabbing _(to himself?)_ without stopping for a breathe.

“There you go,” he turns around finally, with a small tower of towels under his arm. “Gotta get you all dried up, Shin-chan.”

Midorima wants to protest that he can do it himself, but in the end he just doesn’t have enough energy left for arguments. He lets Takao wrap a towel around his shoulders. The soft fabric feels pleasant against his skin and it’s all good until Takao swings another one over his head and starts rubbing it like his life depends on it.

Midorima grunts and pushes him away.

“Are you trying to crack my scull open?” A dark wave rises dangerously behind his eyelids again, forcing Midorima to close his eyes for a moment. When he finally opens them Takao’s worried face is so close he almost flinches away.

“Sorry…” Takao says softly and then suddenly chuckles.

“What..?”

“Your hair. It’s a mess.”

“Well, who is the one to thank for that?”

“Heh, disheveled Shin-chan! Where is the camera when you need it?” he grins at him then shakes his head slightly. “Anyway, you okay? Feeling better?”

“I’m fine. Just why is it so cold in here?”

“Well, let’s see. That would be because certain geniuses like to freeze themselves to death in the shower.”

Midorima can feel his cheeks heat up at the memory. Damn, he must have looked really pathetic back there. “I.. was burning up. I just wanted to cool down a bit.”

“Burning up?..” Takao’s grin is gone in a flash. He furrows his eyebrows and lifts his hand to Midorima’s forehead. He pauses just when his fingers are about to touch the other boy’s skin, hesitates. Midorima stays very still. Finally Takao presses his palm to his forehead and Midorima can see his eyes grow wide. “You _are_ burning up! Damn, Shin-chan, you’ve got a fever. And a freaking high one!”

In a matter of seconds Midorima is tucked under the blankets with Takao panicking around him.

“… we gotta get you dressed. And where is the medicine? Shit, I ain’t got any. Shin-chan, you got any cold meds?”

“ No, I.. just some painkillers.”

“Same as me. Damn, well, that’s useless. Ok, hold on, I’ll be right back… No, wait,..”

“Takao.”

“..Here, we gotta change you into your pajamas first..”

“Takao!”

“Huh,.. what?”

“Calm down.”

Takao freezes in the middle of the room, arms full of Midorima’s clothes, his headband slid down to the middle of his forehead.

“I.. sorry.” He breathes out more calmly now and puts pajama pant and shirt beside Midorima, then blushes slightly as he throws a pair of black boxers on top. “I just… Shin-chan is all sick, I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s not like I’m gonna die,” Midorima grumbles, but feels a twist of something low and painful in the pit of his stomach. Why is this guy such a gullible idiot? His worried face is annoying.

“Just don’t go blabbing to anyone about this,” he warns.

“But I gotta get you medicine.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want the whole team assemble here to stare at me like I’m the next wonder of the world.” _Hey, it’s that stone-faced prick. Look at him being all ill and helpless!_ No, he’d rather his head cracked in half than let them have fun at his expense.

Takao frowns at him for a while but finally shrugs his shoulders.

“Fine. But I still gotta go out for a sec. Everyone is probably still in the canteen though, so it’s fine. You be a good boy and put some clothes on.”

“I’m not a kid, Takao.”

“No, you’re a sick kid.”

Takao grabs a few more towels from the pile and heads for the door.

“Hey, what were _you_ doing in the shower at that time?” Midorima’s question stops him halfway. Takao turns around and scratches the back of his head.

“Oh that? Haha… well, I just kinda… I guess I wasn’t hungry… Be right back.”

_Oh._

Midorima watches him close the door, then slowly puts his pajamas on and crawls back under the covers.

He feels like an idiot.

He was so busy freaking out lately, it didn’t even occur to him to consider what these past few days must’ve been like for Takao. Probably hell, if the dark circles under the other boy’s eyes are any indication.

He suddenly isn’t freezing anymore. The cold shower effect has finally worn off and instead it feels like his body is being slowly set on fire. It’s hard to breath, but Midorima discovers he doesn’t mind all that much. You can’t just make everyone around suffer and get away with that. He can handle a little misery too.

_-xoxoxo-_

Takao brings back wet towels folding them neatly in a kind of cooling compresses. He places them on Midorima’s arms and forehead and Midorima has to hold back not to sigh with relief.

He loosens control for just a moment, reveling in the pleasant cooling feeling and the next thing he knows Takao is climbing into his bed and goes from applying compresses to stroking Midorima’s hair.

_The overconfident bastard!_ Midorima can’t believe the sheer nerve of him while Takao hums something under his nose and shamelessly keeps stroking.

He’s turned off the main lights, leaving only a small bedside lamp on. Its light is warm with an orange tint and paints the room with slick shadows. They overlap with the blanket’s pattern and hang over Takao’s face.

Midorima looks at him and just can’t not ask.

“Why are you doing this?”

Takao’s hand freezes in his hair.

“S-Sorry,” he starts mumbling, “I’ll stop.”

“No! That’s not…” Damn, why is it so difficult to be coherent at times like this? He’s never at a loss of words when Takao screws up.

“No, what I mean is, why are you doing all this for me? Why are you helping me? One would think you’d want to, you know.. drawn me in that shower at best.”

He looks up at the other boy wryly. Takao is looking back at him. There is a golden halo over his head. In the shadows that fall over his face, his eyes look absurdly huge. “Heh, it’s no fun to kick your ass when you’re down,” he flashes him a wicked grin and the comforting feeling of his hand stroking Midorima’s hair returns. “Besides, I’ve got other plans with it once we get you all better,” he winks at him and laughs at Midorima’s scandalized look.

“Don’t worry, Shin-chan, really,” he adds after a while, “I’ve already gotten a reward for my troubles.”

“As in?” Midorima asks carefully. He isn’t sure he wants to know.

“Heh, as in a full view of Shin-chan’s glorious naked self. Even got myself some groping action– _ouch!_ ”

“Don’t push your luck!” Midorima hisses as he knocks Takao over the head half-heartedly. His face is heating up again and it’s not all from the fever.

“Yes sir! I did promise not to mess with Shin-chan’s mind after all. I’ll be obedient like a sheep.”

“You are a wolf in sheep’s skin. Don’t try to fool me.”

Takao snickers at that, then tentatively tugs Midorima’s blanket up almost under his chin. “Alright, time to sleep is now. You gotta get some rest. Don’t worry I’ll behave.”

He isn’t _really_ worried about that. What Midorima is much more worried about is Takao _thinking_ that he is. Regardless of nonsense the other boy likes to spout, he is there when it matters and he at least deserves to know that Midorima knows that.

Midorima tries to formulate that in his head into a coherent explanation, but his feverish mind isn’t of much help. Tomorrow. They’ll talk tomorrow when he is better. He needs to say ‘thank you’ properly. And to apologize.

Finally allowing his mind to relax, Midorima yawns and closes his eyes slowly. The ache in his muscles and the fever grip him in their clutches, trying to suck him deeper into the dark abyss. He lets them and everything around him slowly becomes fuzzy and unimportant until his consciousness sinks under the surface of the feverish sleep.

He does wake up several times during the night.

One time just to find Takao’s arm swung across his chest, his soft breaths tickling Midorima’s neck.

The second time he wakes up because Takao isn’t there. Before Midorima manages to panic though, he can hear the sound of the door close and Takao is back with freshly cooled towels. He carefully places one on each of Midorima’s arms and the last one over his forehead.

_What time is it? Is he planning on doing this all night?_ Midorima almost opens his mouth to scold the idiot for going through the unnecessary trouble, when he feels Takao’s fingers on his lips. The words get stuck half-way in Midorima’s throat. Takao is caressing his face so gently like he is afraid he’d break him. Then his breath is suddenly on Midorima’s cheek and he can feel something cool and soft and wet press against the corner of his eye and next to his cheekbone.

“Sweet dreams, Shin-chan,” Takao’s whisper is a puff of hot exhale on his ear shell. “Sleep well.”

Midorima’s lies there with his brain short-circuited long after Takao cuddles in next to him and goes still. His heart pounds somewhere in his ears. His mind processing is stuck at _what. the. hell. was. that.?_ That bastard! He actually dared to _ki_ … So much for being obedient, damn it! That’s it, forget the apology, he’s suffocating that guy with a pillow first thing in the morning.

_-xoxoxo-_

The next morning Midorima wakes up alone.

He lies there for a while, blinking at the ceiling and feeling disoriented. The cooling towels from his arms and head are gone, but his body doesn’t feel like it’s on fire any more and his headache has also vanished. It looks like his fever broke overnight.

Midorima gets out of bed slowly, only to find a tray of food parked on his bedside table. There a toy turtle of a hideous purple color. Finally there is a note.

Midorima fixes the glasses on his nose and carefully lifts a piece of paper that looks suspiciously like it’s been torn out from their training schedule.

_‘Morning, Shin-chan! I told the coach about your cold, so just sleep it off for today. The wise Oha-asa internet update says your fortune is getting better. The toy’s supposed to boost your luck. Go ahead and knock yourself out playing ninja turtles! Eat lots and don’t leave out your veggies. I’ll bring you Shiruko if you’re a good boy. ^_^’_

Midorima stares at the note, crumbles it and throws it away. Then goes to pick it up and stuffs it into his pocket, all the while cursing under his breath.

He gets it, alright! He would be still sick and miserable if Takao hasn’t slaved all through the night around his Shin-chan. Midorima doesn’t remember being indebted to anyone in his life, but he knows he own that guy big time. He’s grateful.

Except for, then he goes and does _that_ …

Midorima hoped it was some kind of a nightmare and he’d forget all about it by morning, but he can still remember the pressure of Takao’s lips on his face.

And it still makes him go bright red.

_Dammit!_

“Just what the hell do you want from me?” Midorima sighs at the empty room and reaches for his chopsticks.

_-tbc-_


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly more not worksafe than the previous chapter. Slowly but surely we are getting there. ^^

_-xoxoxo-_

Takao lies on the beach spread-eagle. The sand under his naked back is pleasant – not steaming hot from the sun like it will be in the afternoon and not cold from the night anymore, but just right. He lies there without a hat or sunglasses and stares into the sky. The aquamarine blue is so bright and clear Takao isn’t sure where the normal air ends and the sky begins. For some reason this feels like a really important question. It’s not like he has anything better to do anyway. Just when he was finally feeling like doing some serious training that gramps goes and gives everyone a day off.

“Don’t know what you staring at, but if you stare at it any more your eyes will fall out.” Miyaji plunges on a towel next to him, wringing his bangs our and breathing heavily. Him and Kimura were having a blast trying to drawn Ootsubo all morning until that guy finally snapped.

“Hey, you even listening to me? Want me to run you over with a truck, you ignorant brat? Go swim. We’re going back tomorrow, you know.”

He knows that. In the evening they’ll pack their bags and get on the buss early tomorrow. And that will be it. All that happened in their room with Shin-chan over the course of the camp will stay there. Locked away and eventually forgotten. They might even remain friends. If Shin-chan actually feels generous enough to pretend none of this ever happened. If not… well, let’s just say Takao isn’t sure he’s ready to think about it just yet.

So no, he doesn’t feel like swimming. He feels more like drowning.

Which, of course, isn’t Miyaji’s problem.

“Maybe,” he shrugs. “Do you think you can still float when you’re asleep?”

The blond takes a closer look at him and wrinkles his sunburned nose. “Well, someone looks like crap. Heard Midorima’s down with some cold or something. Did you catch that stuff from him too?”

“I wish!” Takao says dreamily.

“Haha, the heck’s that s’posed to mean?”

 _You’ve got no idea_ , Takao thinks. His staring contest with the sky is over and he lifts himself up on his elbows a bit. His head feels heavy.

“So where’s the damage?” he asks around the yawn.

“The what?..”

“A broken bone, gashing stab wound, anything. Don’t tell me you actually got away from Ootsubo unscarred.”

“Oh that!” Miyaji snickers sheepishly, “escaped within an inch of my life. He got Kimura though.”

“Sacrificing a comrade. You're one lowlife of a senpai."

“Shut up! He’ll be fine,” Miyaji waves him off, then pauses and scratches the back of his head, “ well, he’ll live, anyway. Probably… Ootsubo wouldn’t kill a regular, would he?”

“Who knows,” Takao shrugs, amused, “he could always bitchstare him until he just kills himself.”

Miyaji curses under his breath.

Takao doesn’t feel sorry for him. Instead he doodles on the sand with his toe and thinks about Shin-chan. Is he still sleeping? Did the temperature go down? He looked better when Takao last checked before he left. He wonders what kind of face Shin-chan would make if Takao told him he drooled in his sleep.

“.. –kao! Hey, you listening?”

Takao blinks at him.

“No,” he admits honestly.

“I’m saying he’s coming this way. I’m off. If he asks you didn’t see me!”

Miyaji takes off, but doesn’t make it very far. “Hold your horses!” Ootsubo yells after him and covers half the beach with two giant steps. It looks like he’s dragging someone behind him by the ear. Kimura.

“You bastard, jumping on me from behind! You’ve got some balls. But not for long. Here, take this first.” He lets go of the ear and Kimura plops on the sand in between them face down.

Miyaji pokes the lifeless teammate with his foot.

“Whattcha do to him? Ya killed him?” he whines.

Just then Kimura suddenly comes alive, grabs the offending foot and pulls Miyaji down _. “You traitor!”_ Next they are rolling around the beach with a lot of cursing, kicking and hair-pulling.

The flying sand is everywhere. Takao coughs and scrambles to his feet.

He’s almost forgotten what it’s like with these guys. Those last couple of days were all about panicking and arguing with Shin-chan and getting his heart broken over and over again. Those guys were around too, all the time, but for some reason it feels like he hasn’t seen them for months.

Takao is surprised to realize he missed them.

“You all right? How’s Midorima?”

He tears his eyes away from the cat-fight and looks up at their captain.

“I’m not sure. He was sleeping when I left. But he’s gonna be fine, I think.”

“That blockhead! Of course you’ll faint if you don’t eat squat.”

Ootsubo huffs and crosses his arms on his chest. A big guy with an annoyed expression and a vein throbbing on his forehead, he keeps acting like he’d love to snap Midorima’s neck _(and maybe he would)_ , but he actually cares quite a lot. Enough to wake up half the team to go search for a nearest pharmacy anyway when Takao tells him about Shin-chan. Although he’d rather snap his _own_ neck than admit he’s got a soft side.

Takao chuckles. “I’ll let him know you’re worried about him.”

“Who’s worried!” Ootsubo protests. “I just hope he gets his shit together soon so I could kick his ass.” His nose goes just a tiny bit red and he turns away.

“Hey, are you done making out, you sissies? Come on, we’re going to the market. The old man says he wants to smash some watermelons or something.”

Two thoroughly bruised and scratched bodies disintegrate reluctantly and rise to their feet. Miyaji is licking a split lip. That’s gonna hurt like a bitch during dinner.

_-xoxoxo-_

They head off the beach, leaving the rest of the team to splash happily in the salty waves. Miyaji and Kimura keep bickering, this time about the best way to smash a watermelon, because _of course baseball bat is the best way to go, everyone knows that, Kimura;_ and _amateur!_ _you’ll knock yourself out with it before you get anywhere, just drop the melon on the asphalt and it’ll split up nicely_.

“They just never shut up, do they,” Ootsubo sighs.

Takao shrugs his shoulders, “Not everyone can be eloquently quiet like Shin-chan.”

Their group slowly leaves behind the strap of sand and rounds the corner of a narrow alley lined up with hydrangea bushes. The flowers bloom in pastel pink and purple splashes. Their fresh, slightly sweet aroma caresses Takao’s nose. It’s a soothing feeling.

“Are you okay?” Ootsubo interrupts his thoughts.

Takao pauses and looks at him eyes narrowed. “That’s the second time you asked me that today.”

“And that’s the second time you dodged my question.”

“Come on now, Ootsubo-san. Shin-chan’s the one who’s sick. Why wouldn’t _I_ be fine?”

“You look like a panda with those circles under your eyes.”

“That’s ‘cause I was playing naughty nurses with Shin-chan all night long.”

Ootsubo knits his eyebrows at that.

“I wonder what Midorima had to say about it.”

“Oh, Shin-chan is completely smitten with my caring side.”

“Cut the crap!” Ootsubo gives him a hard look that makes Takao instantly shut up.

“You think I’m stupid? Or blind? We’ve all watched the cafeteria scene.” He sighs, then lowers his voice so that only Takao can hear him. “Look, Takao, I don’t know what you said or did to him, but if it’s the kind of bullshit you were talking now, then you’d better stop. Midorima.. no, _you two_ are supposed to carry this team to victory for the new three years of high school. But if you’re going to be as utterly useless as you have been during this camp then none of that is going to happen. And trust me, no one will hate you more for that than Midorima.”

Takao feels like he’s just been hit on the head with a brick. Apparently their captain isn’t half as dense as he looks, because _that_ … that struck too close for comfort. Dammit! _Dammit!!_ Why is each and every one of them…

“You think I don’t know?” his voice breaks down shaking as he whispers back, but Takao doesn’t care. “I know that! I know Shin-chan is all proper and not good with the weird stuff. _You_ are the one who doesn’t get it, senpai! It’s not like I’m just messing around. To Shin-chan I…”

Takao pauses and gaps for air, searching for the right words.

How could he explain it? This feeling like he can almost touch something precious when he’s with Midorima. And it doesn’t matter how much time passes, or if the other boy gets a girlfriend and stops bothering with him altogether, Takao just _knows_ this feeling will never go away.

There is no way Ootsubo would get it. And even if he did, Takao wouldn’t want to share. Because in the end this feeling might be the only thing that he will have left.

“Forget it,” he says slowly. “I’ll sort it out with Shin-chan once and for all, promise. Sorry, for causing a scene, Ootsubo-san. I better go cool my head.”

He turns on his hills and more or less makes a run for it before their captain has a chance to interfere.

Behind them Miyaji stops kicking Kimura’s ankle and peers at him suspiciously.

“Just where do you think you are off to? H!”

He’s a nice guy, all of them are. Takao would love to hang out with them, just… not right now.

“Sorry, guys.. senpai.. just remembered some stuff I needed to do. Have fun with the watermelons.”

“H-Hey!..”

The alley seems like it’s never going to end. Takao can feel their eyes on him with the back of his head. The smell of hydrangeas that was so pleasant moments ago, now feels heavy and suffocating. Takao thinks, _‘why is it so damn hard?’_ , as he rounds the corner in the direction they all just came from. Even out of the other players’ sight he can still hear their voices.

“What the fuck was that all about?”

“Damn, we got rejected again! What the hell did you say to him?” Miyaji sounds outraged. “You think he’ll ever say ‘no’ like this to Midorima too, Ootsubo?”

“…”

“Captain?”

Ootsubo’s voice is quiet and the words are quickly carried away by the wind.

“… I’m afraid it might already be too late for that.”

_-xoxoxo-_

Takao pushes the door of their room in as gently as he can, just in case the other boy is still asleep. It’s a good thing he does too, because Midorima is really lying on the bed, eyes closed. He must’ve been reading just a short while ago. There is a book balanced precariously on the edge of the bed, his glasses hanging off the tip of his nose. And sure enough he’s drooling.

Takao stands in the middle of the room, his arms full with a week’s supply of Shiruko cans and just stares.

He kept wondering about aimlessly for quite a while after he ditched the group. Even got all those drinks with the last of his pocket cash, although of course there is no way Midorima would drink them all before they have to pack and leave.

Ootsubo was right. He’s far from fine. He’s gone and gotten himself into all this mess with Shin-chan and now he just doesn’t know what to do anymore.

He just liked to _tease_ the guy. Sure, Midorima’s got a fucking hot body Takao wouldn’t mind getting a piece of, but that was mostly a case of his teenage hormones taking over his brain. So he was caught jerking off to his male friend’s fantasy, so what? Shit happens. How the hell do you go from _that_ to being this serious about someone in just a couple of days?

Takao sits on the edge of the bed carefully and presses a finger to Midorima’s chin. He then drags it up ever so lightly over Midorima’s lips and nose until he pushes the other boy’s glasses back into place.

No one knows better than Midorima how to act like a prick. And now no one knows better than Takao that it’s just that – acting. He’s seen Shin-chan embraced and helpless and miserable, clinging to him in his sleep. He doesn’t want to just tease Shin-chan anymore. He wants to lock him up somewhere and have him all to himself.

Takao has no idea what to do with all those feelings.

Maybe the captain is right – he’s gotta stop all this before it completely gets out of hand. If he keeps messing with Midorima like that, he really will hate him. And they’ve got too much riding on their ability to cooperate for that. Takao doesn’t want to be the one responsible for the failure of their team and possibly for messing up Midorima’s basketball career.

“You are making a face.”

He nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of that hoarse voice.

“Y-You awake! Shin-chan… A face, what face?”

“Like you’ve just eaten a lemon.” Midorima covers the yawn with the back of his hand and sits up slowly. “You always make that face, when you are trying to think. Stop it. Your brain is not cut out for that.”

Oh yeah, that’s his Shin-chan, alright! Perfectly recovered.

“Well, what do you know, I _was_ just thinking,” Takao flashes him an evil grin, “about getting a nice picture of Shin-chan drooling in his sleep.”

“ _Wha..?!_ I-I wasn’t.. I don’t _drool_.”

Midorima makes a face of his own as he rubs furiously at the corner of his mouth, then stares at his wet sleeve in disbelief. The look is priceless.

“Come on now, Shin-chan. It’s not gonna disappear if you stare at it.” Takao offers soothingly. “Cheer up, I brought you Shiruko. You were a good boy, I trust.”

“I’m not answering that. But thanks.”

Midorima wraps his long slim fingers around the offered can, accidentally brushing against Takao’s own. His face is slightly flushed and a few green locks are sticking out messily here and there.

Takao suddenly has this burning urge to kiss him and jumps off the bed quickly, before his body gets a chance to do something stupid.

“Yeah, enjoy, Shin-chan. There’s plenty.”

He busies himself picking the rest of the cans off the floor where he left them. Doesn’t really know where else to put them and ends up simply dumping them on his bed.

“Takao…”

“Hmm?”

“Would you stop making a mess? Just look here for a second.”

Midorima’s voice is strained and Takao’s heart sinks a little.

“Shin-chan?”

They are both quiet for a while. Midorima doesn’t look at him, examining the bandages on his hand instead.

“…Thank you,” he manages finally.

“Huh?.. Yeah, you already…”

“Not that! Will you just shut up and listen for a moment? That’s not what I… I mean for everything. Yesterday and.. the breakfast. Thanks.”

“Sure,” Takao echoes breathlessly. He can tell it’s not the end yet and he is dreading what will come next.

Midorima apparently is too, at least judging by the way he keeps fumbling with his hands.

“Takao, I… about before.. about that thing……. I’m sorry, Takao. It just,.. it wouldn’t work.”

And there it is. He finally said it. Takao has been officially rejected.

 _It’s not like you expected anything else,_ he reminds himself. _Don’t go acting all surprised now._ He’s just glad Midorima isn’t looking at him right now. ‘Cause if his face looks any bit like he feels inside…

“I don’t really care what tastes you have,” Midorima continues, “I mean, it’s fine,.. the way you are. But doing those kinds of things… with the whole team watching… If anyone _ever_ found out, if our parents…” Midorima shudders visibly at the mere thought, but Takao suddenly goes very still, listening intently.

“You’re probably just confused. Trust me, Akashi was my captain for how many years? You could _see_ the guy swung that way. But you dated girls right? You’ll get tired of all this soon enough and turn right back to big breasts.”

 _What?.._ Inside of Takao’s mind something just goes _click, click_. It’s like the pieces of some imaginary puzzle start snapping together.

“…You’ve probably just gone for too long without, or something…”

_H-Hold on a moment… What?_

Midorima keeps saying something else. Something that Takao misses every word of. His heartbeat is just too loud to make out the words.

 _‘Shut up!’_ , he orders it, _‘shut up, damn you!’_. He’s gotta hear this! He’s gotta listen very fucking carefully, because if by any unfathomable chance he isn’t getting this wrong… What Midorima is saying,.. he probably doesn’t even realize it himself.

“…we’ll… just go back to the way we used to be. Just get yourself a girlfriend, or something.. It’s more normal this way.”

Finally Midorima quiets down having talked for uncharacteristically long. He raises his eyes slowly and for the first time looks directly at Takao. There is a drop of sweat rolling down his temple. Takao can practically _feel_ the tension radiating from him.

“Shin-chan…” he whispers almost inaudibly. Then suddenly, to his own surprise, bursts out laughing.

It’s not just some quiet giggling either. Takao is going at the top of his lungs, his head rolled back, until the air starts to run out. Through the tears in his eyes, Takao can see Midorima gaping at him, it’s clearly not the reaction that guy expected. Well, it’s not something Takao planed on either. Which, for some reason, only spurs him on.

“Shin-chan.. oh, Shin-chan!..” Takao manages through the outbursts until the laughing turns into wheezing and he finally goes quiet, holding on to his belly and completely out of breath.

“What.. in hell was that?”

Midorima looks at him wide-eyed as if Takao has gone crazy.

And maybe he has. Just a bit.

“Shin-chan,” he crosses the room and climbs on Midorima’s bed again in a heartbeat. “Do have any idea what you just said? You don’t, do you? ‘Cause if that was your idea of saying ‘no’, then it’s not gonna cut it.”

Midorima manages to blink at him, jaw still dropped.

He’s so adorable when he’s being dumb.

“You sure said a bunch about people finding out and me just being confused.” He suddenly grabs Midorima’s shoulders, looking him in the eye, and adds very seriously, “but I haven’t heard you say a word about actually hating the thought of being with me. You’ve never said you didn’t want do it, or that you didn’t want to date me.”

Behind the glasses Midorima’s eyes go impossibly wide, as the implications down on him. He flinches away. Or at least he tries to. But Takao’s hold on him is deadly, like a snake strangling its prey.

“It’s too late to freak out now, Shin-chan. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re just afraid I’d change my mind and leave you hanging afterwards,” Takao delivers another blow.

_“Wha..?!”_

“Shin-chan,” somehow Takao maneuvers his hands from Midorima’s shoulders to his cheeks. “Tell me, what do you think of me?.. Forget about everyone! No teammates. No parents. Just us. Do you.. hate me? Do you hate it when I’m touching you?..”

He’s so desperate, so emotionally fucked up. All of his self-preservation instincts have long packed their bags.

Takao doesn’t even notice when he scoots so close to Midorima’s utterly shocked face, their noses are almost touching.

“Shin-chan, can I… kiss you?” he whispers hoarsely, “I want to kiss you.”

There is moment of.. just freezing together on the crest of adrenalin wave, while everything around them is obliterated.

Midorima opens his mouth.

His eyes grow even more unbelievably wide. _(Is that even humanly possible?)_

“W-What.. like yesterday?” he whispers back just as hoarsely.

“Oh. You knew…” Takao grins despite himself. “No, not like yesterday. This time for real. ..Can I?”

“No..”

“You don’t want me to?”

“I don’t!..”

Midorima is so tense under Takao’s hands, that the muscles on his neck start trembling. But his eyes are locked with Takao’s like he’s been hypnotized.

Takao looks deep into them and.. _sees it_.

“Liar,” he smiles against Midorima’s mouth.

And then Takao kisses him.

It’s just lips clinging to each other at first. Takao runs his tongue over Midorima’s lower lip, moistening it.

His breath is hitched somewhere in the back of his throat. He knows he’s trembling from the shock of intimate contact.

Takao drags his mouth over Midorima’s tense one, probing, nibbling, until he finally founds the _spot_. Midorima makes just a tiny inaudible gasp, but that’s enough. Takao presses against his lips, prying them open, and slips his tongue in.

The heat of Midorima’s mouth burns him. Takao shudders and for a moment loses himself completely. Not thinking, not hurting from despair, just licking and sucking on tender flesh.

When they finally pull away, they are both breathless. Midorima’s eyes are two unfocused trembling slits. He struggles for air in tiny rapid gasps that make Takao’s heart jump un and down inside of him like a tennis ball.

“Again,” he decides breathlessly and lunches forward before the other boy has any time to protest.

Somehow they end up lying on the bed. Somehow Midorima’s hands are grasping at his back. And he is kissing Takao back. _Oh, yes! Gods! Fucking hell..! He’s kissing back!_

“Shin-chan.. Shin-chan..” He’s whispering it like a mantra.

“Shin-chan, don’t stop, I’m begging you, don’t stop!.. I’ll kill anyone who finds out.. just please, Shin-chan…”

“Shut up!” Midorima orders him in between the kisses.

He sinks his fingers into Takao’s hair and _tugs_. Takao moans loudly and throws his head back.

His senses are so overloaded, the sudden knock on the door seems like a gunshot.

_-xoxoxo-_

They both freeze, eyes wide, breaths caught in their throats.

Takao isn’t even sure what it was he heard until the knocking repeats itself and this time there is a voice.

“It’s me. Midorima?”

“Fuck!” Midorima mouthes under his breath. “Get off!” He suddenly pushes at Takao with a completely different strength from just a moment ago. “Get off me!”

“Hey, are you even in there? Can I come in?”

“No,” Midorima says in an icy-cold voice. “What do you want?”

Behind the door Ootsubo sounds a bit more irritated. “What, so you _are_ there? What the hell are you doing, sleeping?”

“…I was, until you woke me up. You want something from me?”

“Huh?.. Ah, no, well, I was just… dammit.. You hanging in there alright?” he finally manages. “If you need anything…”

“I’ll be fine,” Midorima cuts in sharply, “after I get some sleep.”

There is some fumbling behind the door.

“Yeah.. sure.” Ootsubo mutters at last and after a moment they can hear his steps finally move away.

Takao lets out a breath he didn’t know, he was holding. He doesn’t think he’s ever hated his captain _(or anyone, for that matter)_ as much, as he does now.

He shoots a glance at Midorima. There isn’t even a trace of the fire from a moment ago left.

“Shin-chan..” he probes carefully.

The other boy blinks at him, like he just noticed him there and the next thing Takao knows, his ass hits the floor.

“I told you to get off of me, dammit!” Midorima hisses threateningly.

Takao’s head cracks against the bed pole so painfully, his vision goes blurry for a moment.

“What the?.. Shin-chan, just now you were…”

“Don’t even start, you asshole!” Midorima’s sharp voice makes him shudder. “You don’t get it, when people are trying to be polite, do you? Fine, I’ll tell you clearly then.”

The pain is racking Takao’s skull. His mind is locked in a circle of _Oh, no! Nonononononono!_ There is something warm tricking down his forehead.

“I told you ‘no’ so many times, it got annoying.”

_Dammit! Damn you, Ootsubo!_

“I _do_ hate it. Only a freak like you would like another guy touching him. It’s disgusting!”

Midorima’s voice rings in his ears. Insult by insult.

Takao raises his hand to wipe the blood off his forehead like in a dream. He feels like crying. But even more than that, he feels like punching Midorima’s lights out. _That stupid coward!_

“Shut up!!”

His outburst is so sudden, Midorima actually obeys.

“You wanna play a homophobe, then don’t scream like a sissy!” Takao snarls as he gets up slowly. “So I like it with another guy, so what? ‘Tis better than being a shitheaded princess who’s playing all tough and hard to get, ‘cause he’s scared people are actually gonna talk to him.”

Takao looks square at Midorima’s shocked face and for the first time since the beginning of the camp feels like he doesn’t give a damn. That’s it. He’s finally had enough.

“Relax, Midorima, I was just playing a little, ‘tis all. There's no way, I’d actually go for your boney ass. You can have it plow'd by your dear Kuroko, or anyone you want for all I care. After you get that stick outta it, that is.”

Takao walks to the door without turning around and slams it behind himself.

It’s only when he gets outside that he finally stops. The sun is blinding him, giving his bleeding head a killer ache. Takao presses his back to the heated wall of the inn and slowly lets himself slide down.

He hides his face then in the privacy of his palms just as his whole body begins to shake.

_-tbc-_


	7. Chapter 7

_-xoxoxo-_

The corridors of the old inn are long and creepy,smelling of dry wood and the sun. Shuutoku classrooms have a similar scent. Maybe it’s something of a signature for the old buildings, or maybe Ootsubo’s sense of smell is just off. He stops in the middle of the hallway inhaling that scent deep into his lungs just to release it in a loud sigh.

 _What the hell is wrong with this team?_ Their carefully scouted and pampered first-year duo managed to get into each other’s hair, ruin their combination and come down with a fever all in the course of three days. Where the fuck did the cute innocence go? He doesn’t remember ever being such a pain in the ass when _he_ was a first-year.

It’s the last day of Shuutoku’s training camp and Ootsubo honestly can’t tell if it’s done more damage than good to their team. What he _can_ tell for sure though, is that he’s never showing sympathy to Midorima ever again. All he did was go to ask how the kid was doing and what does he hear in return? A grumpy ‘leave me alone’. That brat is seriously gonna stay a jerk even on his deathbed.

For the world of him Ootsubo just doesn’t get what Takao sees in him and it gets on his nerves.

In fact, there is a lot getting on his nerves these days.

The Takao-Midorima cat fight, the ever-changing weather, the fly buzzing in the corner of the window, struggling to break through the window glass head on.

Ootsubo makes a move to get the window open, or kill the damn thing, just to make it shut up. But he never gets there.

Out of nowhere there is a guy sprinting past him down the hallway. No, more like sprinting right _at_ him.

It takes Ootsubo a moment to stop gaping before his body manages to react.

He dodges in the nick of time. The other boy just flies past him. It’s like he doesn’t even notice Ootsubo is there.

“Where the fuck you are going?!“ Ootsubo yells after him as his back hits the wall.

 _Hold on minute._ Was he seeing things or was that just now Takao? What the hell is he doing running around the inn like a blind idiot?

Ootsubo curses under his breath and wipes his forehead. Something suddenly blinks in the back of his mind. Like a warning light. There was just something about Takao... Was that _blood_ he saw? And he was running from the same direction Ootsubo just came from......

_Dammit!_

Ootsubo turns on his heels and stalks back. _That’s it, he’s murdering that idiot!_

“Midorima!“ he yells swinging the door open. He doesn’t even bother to knock.

He finds Midorima just standing there in the middle of the room. It’s like he didn’t even notice him barge in.

“The fuck have you done this time?“ Ootsubo snarls. “Can’t you two just talk normally to each other? Just for once?“

Midorima looks up at him. Slowly. Like he’s moving in slow motion. His eyes look absurdly huge and unfocused. Is it just the weird light or does he really look so pale?

“Takao...“ he repeats slowly. He seems dazed. “Where is he?“

The guy is almost as big as Ootsubo himself, his shoulders are wide and he’s got this stern posture, but right now Midorima Shintarou looks strangely... vulnerable.

“I-hell if I know,“ Ootsubo says considerably softer this time. “He just ran past me. It’s like he was possessed What is it this time? Did you fight again?“

“No, I- I said some stuff to him....“

“Right. And his head just started bleeding on its own. Just what the hell really happened here?“

“That’s what _I_  wanna know!“

Ootsubo turns around only to see Miyaji burst into the room in a very similar manner he himself did just a moment ago.

“We just ran into our Takao on the way back. He looked like shit and he got away before we managed to stop him. Can someone explain to me why his head was all smashed in?“

“Yeah. He, uhm.. looked like he was out of it quite a lot too.“ Kimura as always is right behind the blond. His massive jaw moves heavily as if he’s chewing on every word. “You know anything, captain?“

“Don’t ask _him_! I wanna hear it from Midorima. Someone is being a little nice to you and you start actin‘ like an asshole! What’d you do to him?“

“Miyaji, hey..“

“Shut up, Kimura! Ya all thinkin‘ that, ya just won’t say it.“

 _Not good,_ Ootsubo thinks. No, it’s even worse than he originally thought. Much worse. It’s not just two greenhorns rufflung each other’s feathers anymore. They’ve got the whole team involved now. He’s gotta stop this.

“That’s enough,“ Ootsubo growls.

No one’s listening.

Miyaji runs up to Midorima, grabs him by the arm. „D’ya know he’s been worried ‘bout your ass all mornin‘? What the hell’s wrong with you?! Ya’ve been on his case ever since we‘ve gotten to this damn camp. Can‘tcha survive five minutes without makin‘ someone’s life miserable? He even took care of ya when ya were fuckin‘ sick!“

“How is any of this your business?“ Midorima snaps back at him suddenly.

That dazed look from his face vanishes in an instant. Two green eyes behind the specs go sharp as he easily shakes Miyaji off.

“And why am _I_  being accused? He is the one who..... did stuff. If he... _damn!_ “ He bites his lip and looks away. „...If Takao got his ass kicked then that’s what he deserved... Just doing things selfishly...“

The room grows quiet. Miyaji looks so outraged he opens and closes his mouth like a fish without being able to actually say anything.

Midorima lifts his eyes and glares defiance at him.

“Please don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.... Senpai.“

“Midorima!” Ootsubo barks. That’s enough. The last thing he needs now is for his regulars to start a brawl here. The coach will skin him alive.

Miyaji slowly shakes his head. “Man, you’re one fucked up scumbag!”

“Miyaji! Just shut up already!”

“What?! You know, I’m right, dammit. Let’s go, Kimura, we’re going after Takao. I’m not gonna let my cute little freshman cry.”

The blond storms out of the room just as dramatically as he came in. Kimura makes an _‘I’ll take care of it’_ sign at Ootsubo and drags himself after him.

Ootsubo allows himself a tiny sigh of relief when they are finally gone. Now then, what to do with Midorima?

The other boy’s hands are shaking, clenched into tight fists. One doesn’t need to be a psychic to guess that he’s miserable.

“Midorima…”

Ootsubo searches for something suitable to say… and can’t find anything. He doesn’t even feel like yelling at him anymore.

“You know, as the captain, I don’t approve of Miyaji’s choice of words,” he offers finally, “but I do understand his feelings.”

“When you’re done sulking, go clear your head,” he adds already in the doorway. Midorima turns away from him and Ootsubo stalks off.

_-xoxoxo-_

When Ootsubo walks out of the inn, it’s like he stepped into a different dimension. Instead of a peaceful sunny day they had here an hour ago the wind is blowing in sporadic spasms, accumulating a pillow of purple clouds above their heads.

This starts to look suspiciously similar to the night he found Midorima wondering the hallways, playing a wet rat. So these guys’ bullshit is affecting the weather too now?

“Can you believe it?!” Miyaji looks like he’s got quite a few question of his own.

He is pacing back and forth, every time hitting a tree branch that keeps getting in his way.

The afternoon wind is ruffling his hair, making it a mess.

“That bastard actually beat up our Takao! And didn’t even show any remorse over it! Can you fucking believe it?”

Ootsubo can believe that if he says it one more time, the Shuutoku regulars will be looking for a new small forward, because he’s strangling Miyaji.

“Settle down,” he says weakly. This whole argument is like a brick falling on his head. His brain hurts. “Anyway, did you see Takao?”

“No, he’s not on the outside courts. Or anywhere near the inn for that matter.” Kimura places himself between the ill-fated branch and Miyaji’s forehead to prevent any further abuse. “Oh but... can’t really say that we looked all that thoroughly.”

“Well, we gotta find him. Don’t forget that his head _is_ bleeding. He needs treatment.”

“Hmpf! As if we could actually forget that! What the hell is Midorima’s problem anyway? And you,” Miyaji suddenly stops in the middle of pacing and pokes a finger into Ootsubo’s chest. “You went to check up on him. Why didn’t you fucking stop them?”

“Because I didn’t know there _was_ anything to stop. At first Midorima didn’t even let me in.”

“And you didn’t hear them arguin’? Didn’t hear the fight?”

“No, dammit! Midorima said he wanted to sleep and refused to let me come in. Was all riled up about it too. So I left. I had no idea Takao was even…” Ootsubo suddenly cuts off. Then adds after a while, but this time more to himself, “… there… with him.”

It’s like the math equation you weren’t getting suddenly starts making sense.

Sick, vulnerable Midorima + Takao + empty bedroom.

Oh. So _that’s_ it. No wonder Midorima sounded so tense.

“What? So what? Hey, why’re you suddenly getting’ all quiet and ‘oh, I know what’s going on’ like?”

He warned Takao. Warned him, dammit! Told him not to say _things_. And well, yeah, here he is: not saying – doing. _Shit!_ Why does his last year of captaincy have to be this complicated? When coach finds out about all this mess, he’ll have his head.

“Ootsubo!!”

Miyaji steps on his foot, indignant.

“The hell?”

“Finally, we’re getting’ some reaction here! It looks like this stupid patient’s gonna make it after all.”

Ootsubo slowly blinks at the fuming blond.

“What’s he blabbing about?” he asks Kimura, who only shakes his head.

“That’s my line, dammit! Ya know somethin’, doncha? Spit it out! Want me to run you over?”

“No. It’s nothing, really. Trust me, you don’t wanna know.” Hell, _he_ didn’t ask to know either.

Miyaji doesn’t look too convinced. He’s like a Cocker Spaniel with a bone when it comes to gossip.

“Then what’re you so secretive ‘bout? C’mon, what _is_ it?”

Ootsubo can feel a vein throbbing faintly on his forehead, but he’s more tired than angry. When Miyaji gets like that, he will go on pestering him until he gets his answers. Maybe it’s easier to just get it off his chest. _Hey, guess what, the star of our team is having a freaking lovers quarrel with our point guard._ There. Nice and simple.

“So ya sayin’ ya went in front of their door, but ya didn’t hear ‘em fightin’, right?” Miyaji just doesn’t give up. “And we know Takao was in there with ‘im, right?”

“Right.”

“ And Midorima basically told ya to piss off, right?”

“Uh, well…”

Miyaji goes quiet for a moment, seems to mule it over in his head. Then his eyes grow wide with realization.

“Noooo, he didn’t!... D’ya think Midorima... that bastard was already stranglin’ him, or somethin’?”

 _Oh God!_ Ootsubo nearly headpalms himself.

Kimura looks at him, then looks at the blond and shakes his head.

“Captain, you gotta tell him clearly, or this guy is never gonna get it. Those two, they are, uhm,.. _like_ _that_ , right?”

“Kimura…” Well, what do you know. And here Ootsubo always thought their power forward was more on the slow side.

“ _Like that?_ Like what? Don’t spout freaky stuff. That sounds like a couple makin’ out, ya know.……... _!!!_ ”

Ootsubo can almost _hear_ the pieces snapping together in the blond head. If Miyaji’s eyes were wide before, now they are the size of two onigiri.

“Oh my fuckin’ hell! Damn! Yuck!”

Right now he knows exactly how Miyaji feels. Ootsubo can almost feel sorry for him.

“No fuckin’ way, you ain’t thinkin’ those two were, ya know…” Miyaji’s dramatic whisper could probably be heard back in the inn, “actually havin’ se– ”

“Shut up!” Ootsubo clasps a hand over the blond’s mouth. “Shut up and stop putting images in my head, or I’ll have you run laps all the way back to Tokyo. Got it?”

Miyaji just stares at him for a while, probably until he runs out of air, then starts nodding enthusiastically.

Ootsubo releases him from his clutches. The palm of his hand is now hot and slightly damp from Miyaji’s breath.

All three of them just stand there bewildered for a moment as the gushing wind rages around them.

“Well, no shit,” Miyaji concludes, scratching the back of his messy head. “I mean, I knew Takao had a crush on him, but…”

“..You _knew_?!!”

“Yeah, I mean, c’mon, he was _obvious_ , right? Oh, But I had no idea he’d act on it so quickly, that cheeky brat. No wonder Midorima freaked out. Still think he’s an asshole, though. Wait,… more importantly, how come _you_ figured it out so quickly?”

Really, how _did_ he figure it out?

Was it because he found Midorima wondering around drenched to the bone in the middle of the night? Because of that misery he saw in Takao’s eyes?

“They _were_ obvious,” Ootsubo scowls.

“And here I thought ya were suppos’d to be the real thickhead when it came to this kinda thing,” Miyaji huffs and crosses his arms on his chest thoughtfully. “Anyway, now that we know, what the hell’re we gonna do?”

“What do you mean? We are going to look for that runaway blockhead of course.”

“Nah,” the blond waves him off, “that’s not it. I meant whatcha gonna do _afterwards_. What if they, y’know, _get together_? Ya gonna allow it? What will the rest of the team say?”

Ootsubo opens his mouth to counter him, but then slowly closes it again. Actually, he hasn’t thought so far. The sole idea of those two together is already so dreadful, it hasn’t even occurred to him to think about how it could affect the team. Will he have to kick his top player out? Is there even a rule against the members of the club dating each other? Ootsubo doesn’t think so. The possibility has probably never even occurred to anyone. _Agh, his head hurts!_

“Anyway, I just,.. don’t want to think about it for a while,” Ootsubo sighs,.. and gets a handful of dust blown into his eyes and mouth, almost making him suffocate in a coughing fit.

“You okay?” Miyaji pats him on the back sympathetically.

Ootsubo only shakes his head.

Two fat chilly raindrops land on his neck. Seriously _, what the hell’s wrong with this weather?_ He fights off the momentary urge to shake the water out like a dog and instead pushes Miyaji onto Kimura.

“In any case,” he instructs, spitting the dust that still clings to his tongue, “go find Takao before this turns into another shower.” They’ve wasted enough time as it is. He’d go himself, but he needs to talk to Midorima before he does something dumb again, or before the coach gets to him. And most importantly, he’s got to sort his own thoughts out first.

“Got it.” Kimura lifts his head at the stormy sky and furrows his eyebrows. “Captain, we better sort this one quickly, I think. This looks like it’s gonna get pretty bad.”

Ootsubo looks up after him.

The clouds look like someone beat them up back and blue with a baseball bat.

He’s _so_ got a bad feeling about all this.

_-xoxoxo-_

“Ootsubo-kun, good, I was just looking for you.”

It’s by willpower alone that Ootsubo resists an urge to squeak like a little girl. _Since when is it a popular thing to sneak up on people from behind?_

“Coach!”

Damn, what rotten luck! He wanted to talk to Midorima before the old man got a wind of the incident, but apparently he beat Ootsubo to it. Otherwise, what else could he possibly want to talk about with that kind of face? Ootsubo began to suspect long ago that there is some truth to what they say about even walls having ears when it came to Shuutoku’s coach controlling his team. And when the old man Nakatani found out about any troubles, those responsible were dealt with swiftly and mercilessly.

And the captain is always responsible.

“Is there… a problem,.. coach?” Ootsubo squeezes out.

Nakatani gives him a tight-lipped smile. The look in his wrinkled eyes is that usual sharp dark stare that seems to pierce Ootsubo to the bone.

“Yes, hmmm.. I am sorry to interrupt your youngsters’ fun, but it appears we have a situation. Yes, why don’t we talk in my room a bit?”

Fun? Yeah, well, he’s been having a fucking time of his life so far. All of them have.

“Sure,” Ootsubo mumbles in return.

…

Over these past few days the old man Nakatani has turned his tiny corner room into the temporary club headquarters. The posters with tactical drawings, the videos, the books and notes are organized in stacks and piles all over the walls and floor. He even dragged a whiteboard in from somewhere.

Ootsubo can’t even begin to guess how long it will take to pack everything.

“Have a seat.” The coach waves his hand in the general direction of the pile of magazines. He himself sits on the floor, legs crossed. His usual black tie hangs in the middle of his pure white shirt, as if dividing him in two.

Even though it’s been crazy hot for the last couple of days, Nakatani has never worn anything other than his usual formal outfit. The sleeves of his cotton shirt remained down and the collar buttoned all the way up, while his team was practically evaporating under the merciless sun.

The club members often joked around that their coach must be an android. Ootsubo doesn’t really get the jokes. He thinks he’s just a weird old man, who is damn good at what he does.

In all honesty, Ootsubo doesn’t want to disappoint him.

So he goes first.

“Look, sir, if it’s about Midorima, I was just going to give him a piece of my mind...”

“Do you know where everyone is?” Nakatani interrupts him. In fact it doesn’t look like he’s been listening at all.

Everyone? Is that his was of asking about Takao?

“Uh, no, sir. But I don’t think anyone would wonder far off in this kind of weather. The last ones I was talking to were Kimura and Miyaji…”

“I see… Hmm, yes, the weather… That could be a problem. I think it’s best we call those two in here. Oh, yes, and Midorima-kun too.”

...

Ootsubo follows Nakatani from the corner of his eye while his phone dials away Miyaji’s number.

Something doesn’t seem right. Or more like, he doesn’t get it. He kind of expected the coach to be more.. mad?

Instead, the old man is tapping his chin like he always does when devising an on-spot strategy in a tough game. There is a strange tension floating in the air like a balloon, ready to burst any time.

The call finally connects and he can hear Miyaji’s voice.

“..the fuck’re ya goin’? Only an idiot like you’d go swimmin’ with a split head…..” there is some frantic rustling on the other side, then, “Sorry, you wanted somethin’ Captain-san?”

Ootsubo bolts for the door, mouthing ‘excuse me a minute’ to Nakatani over his shoulder.

“What the hell are you yelling for?” he growls once safely outside the room. “Never mind, just put Kimura on the phone.”

“Che, fine!”

“Captain?” It sounds like he’s being strangled.

“You found Takao yet?”

“Not yet. The rain’s getting real bad, though.”

“Forget the rain. Get back to the inn ASAP and get Midorima on the way. The old man wants us all in his office -room.”

For a moment there is more of ‘hrrrrrshhhh’ on the other end, until Miyaji gets control of the receiver again.

“Ya think he knows?”

“No, he’s bored and wants to listen to you spouting rubbish… Of course, he knows! Why else would he call all of us in? Turn your brains on and get your asses over here…”

“…ASAP. We got it. Bye bye now.”

When they still don’t show up after half an hour, Ootsubo starts feeling like he’s sitting on needles. All of his attempts to probe Nakatani for how much he knows failed miserably. He watches his coach’s expression grow darker and more distant by the moment and tries to hypnotize the front door into opening.

When his phone suddenly rings, Ootsubo almost crushes it in his hand.

“Where the hell are you?” He hisses, slipping out of the room again.

“Well…”

“At least tell me you found Takao.”

“Eeh.., not exactly. We lost Midorima, though.”

“What?!!”

“Well, I mean, he’s not in his room,” Miyaji whines.

Ootsubo closes his eyes, takes a very deep breath and counts to five, six, seven - ten.

“Well, where _is_ he then?” He asks resignedly.

“Oh, hold on, I’m gonna check my crystal ball now… How the fuck should I know?!”

“Alright. Calm down. Just get to the coach’s room, okay?”

Miyaji lets out a long string of curses (there is an _‘alright’_ somewhere in there) and hangs up.

For a while, Ootsubo just stares blankly at his beeping phone and tries not to think of how the things turned into such a mess.

_-xoxoxo-_

“Hey, w-what?... Just now, what did you…?” Miyaji’s voice is high-pitched and breaks on the ending. And yes, he’s not making much sense, but they all got him perfectly.

Because what else can you say when your coach tells you in a laid-back voice like he’s discussing high quality melons, that there is a raging storm, typhoon, heading your way. And that the place you’re sitting in now, will probably be severely damaged / wiped off the face off the Earth in a couple of hours.

“The what?...” Ootsubo blurts out unintelligently. What the hell did the old man just say?

It’s all is so out of the blue, he feels completely at a loss.

This was supposed to be about Takao and Midorima…

From the corner of his eye he can see Miyaji go _“The fu– ”_ , and Kimura elbowing him into silence.

Nakatani remains unfazed, just letting the thought sink in.

It’s actually Kimura who reacts first.

“How bad is it?” he growls in that low voice of his.

The coach nods.

“Hmm,… nothing serious – is what I’d like to say, but than again, I would be lying.”

“Dammit! Stop screwing with us, old ma– ”

This time Kimura elbows the blond harder. “What are we gonna do?” he asks.

“Yes, a reasonable question, Kimura-kun. The answer is: we have and gather everyone first. Most of the first years are in the inn, yes, but some of the second string stayed behind on the beach. We have to find them and have them pack their essentials.”

 _‘Pack their essentials’?_ He’s talking about it so calmly it seems unreal.

“This inn is old and not exactly the best place to wait out a storm like that,” he continuous. “So far the owner has informed me that he had arranged for the guests and all the staff to be moved to a local school building.”

“That bad, huh?” Ootsubo finally wills himself to get a grip. He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose as hard as he can. Gotta calm down! It might be a bloody storm, a match against Rakuzan, or whatever else pleases to come their way, he can’t mop around while his team is in danger. “How much time do we have?”

“Not much, unfortunately. It’s getting worse by a minute. We have to be ready…” Nakatani takes a quick look at his watch, “ -in an hour. An hour and a half at the best, before the bus that will take us there leaves. That being said, I’ll need some help from the three of you. First of all, call back all those who are not in the inn. From there we’ll have to coordinate…”

“…Why?..” Miyaji interrupts him. He’s white as a sliding paper door and there is an unfamiliar note of panic in his voice. “What the hell’s all this all of a sudden? How come no one warned us sooner? Coach?.. Ootsubo?..”

“Miyaji…”

“What kinda blind jackasses they got monitorin’ the weather?..”

“Miyaji!!”

“No, let go of me!”

Kimura gets a hold of his shoulders and shakes him. Just once, but with such power, the blond head rocks back and forth like a yes-no toy.

“Ouch, stop it! Quit that, dammit! You jackass…” Miyaji squeaks and throws off Kimura’s hand.

“…Sorry,” he crooks a small apologetic grin after a few breaths, “Momentary lapse of reason.”

Nakatani gives him a long hard look. Then suddenly his wrinkled eyes turn very warm for a moment. It’s probably the first time Ootsubo has seen it.

“Don’t worry so much, Miyaji-kun. It’s just a bit of rain in a few blows of wind. Nothing to fuss about.”

“Right,” Miyaji rubs his palms together, “So, what was that for my task? Countin’ our scattered chickens? Roger that!”

_-xoxoxo-_

The next time Ootsubo steps outside, he’s got to hold on to his shirt because it flaps around him like a huge cape. The rain splashes his face, drenching his hair in a matter of moments and forcing him to constantly blink.

Ootsubo curses under his breath and walks faster.

Even though it’s already gotten like this, there’s still a small _(cowardly)_ part of him that goes _‘this isn’t for real; there’s no way something crazy like a typhoon could happen, not to us_.

Ootsubo kicks that part into the back corner of his mind and tucks the flapping shirt in his pants. First things first, he needs to find Midorima. Find him and talk (possibly beat) some sense into him.

Well, at least the first part is easy enough. He can hear a steady sound of the basket ball as soon as he enters the gym. That’s so like Midorima to just ditch everyone while they are worried about him and go off to shoot the balls selfishly.

Despite the pressing time, Ootsubo takes a few moments to just simply stand and watch the first year through the frame of the changing room’s door. It’s just dribbling, but, damn, his form is perfect. Such smooth moves, such effortless balance. It will be a hell of a waste if anything goes wrong for a talent like this over a kick of teenage hormones. And it won’t be Takao’s fault either.

It will be his, Ootsubo’s.

Because he should’ve seen it sooner. No, because he _did_ see it sooner. Just.. didn’t have the guts to acknowledge what he saw and act on it. And now he can only hope it’s not too late.

 _Damn!_ Ootsubo just _knows_ he’s making a face right now. He hates giving speeches.

“Everyone is out there looking for Takao, you know,” he says leaning against the doorframe.

Midorima stops dribbling the ball at the sound of his voice but he doesn’t turn around.

“Takao is a fool,” he huffs dismissively.

“Oh yeah, so what does it make _you_ then?”

“I have nothing to do with him.”

 _Nothing to do with him, my ass,_ Ootsubo thinks. _Even with your back turned you still look like you’re about to cry._

“Were you like this in Teikou too?” he asks with a sigh.

“What?.. Why is Teikou coming up in this conversation?”

“What was it like there?”

Midorima shoots him a suspicious look over his shoulder.

“Why do you ask now?”

“No reason. Just, I’ve never actually got around to asking you.”

“…”

“You know, the coach was overjoyed when he managed to get his hands on one of the Generation of Miracles, but when you first got here, I was really pissed. You know what I mean,” he scowls, “you don’t exactly make a sunny first impression. The few who didn’t freak out, were put off. No one likes it when you glare at them. And on top of that the coach hovers over you like a mother hen. How the hell are we supposed to cooperate with such a guy? Trust me, I wasn’t the only pissed one.”

Ootsubo quietly smirks to himself. He can almost _feel_ Midorima twitching. _Hold on a bit longer,_ he thinks, _I’m getting there._

“… And then the next thing we know Takao is calling you ‘Shin-chan’ and goes all hyper, clinging to you. And he’ll laugh at every second word that comes out of your mouth. To be honest, we kinda feared for his life at first.”

“The bets,” Midorima huffs.

“Yeah. How did you?! -Never mind… Anyway, the point is, your personality can be an intimidating, annoying, willful royal pain in the ass sometimes and Takao is still willing to be friends with all that. And you. You think you can be a smartass and hide it well, but it’s obvious you worry about him too, don’t you? Being so protective of him during the matches. The truth is, you actually like…..”

“Shut up!”

Midorima cuts him off in the middle of a sentence. His voice is so shaky it’s unsettling.

“You don’t know anything!” he chokes out. “Takao is just an annoying pest, who has been following me around, and now… it’s all his fault!.. You want to know about Teiko? Let me tell you then. There was never a need for any pretend mushy friendships between us. All I had to do was find a free basket and practice my throws. By myself. Did you know that ever since I perfected my shot, I haven’t missed once?”

He rolls the ball in his hands and positions himself. The high arc of the throw is as usual, perfect.

That’s why Ootsubo’s breath hitches in his throat when the ball ricochets from the rim of the basket and falls on the side with a mocking _‘twack’_.

“…I couldn’t make even a single basket today.” Midorima’s hoarse voice is almost a whisper. “Just what is so good about him to be worth that much?”

Fuuuuuck!.. They are so fucked! Looks like it _is_ too late, dammit.

Ootsubo grabs the door so hard, the hinges creak.

He actually feels sorry for Midorima. Really, he does. This is probably the first time something in his programmed-like life didn’t go as scheduled. Takao is one hell of a guy to turn Midorima into such a mess. Now that it’s gotten like this though, he can at least speak his mind openly. He doesn’t have time to play nice anyway.

“Is this your first time?” he sighs.

Midorima almost drops another ball. “W-What?”

“Having someone get to you, get under your skin? Don’t worry, that’s what normal people do. It’s called _caring_.”

“I.. I don’t care about that Takao,” Midorima protests.

Ootsubo narrows his eyes. He’s so got a vein throbbing on his forehead right now.

“Well, _I_ do,” he growls. “And I got something else I care about. This fucking team. I care about people who work their asses off to get it to the top. And Takao is a valuable part of that. And if you,” he glares at Midorima, “are going to mess it up, tell me now, so I can kick your miracle ass.”

There! He can give a captain speech. Wasn’t that nice.

Midorima glares at him, then throws the ball without even looking. It smashes into the wall next to Ootsubo’s face with and explosive sound and leaves a sizable dent.

“Why am I always the one to blame?” he hisses out.

Very scary.

“Because you are not the one whose head was injured. And you aren’t getting lost during the fucking tropical storm.”

“…What?”

“I said, you’re not the injured one..”

“No, just now,.. that part about the storm.”

“Oh yeah, about that…”

Ootsubo’s sympathy for their coach grows with every moment it takes to explain the situation. So that’s how their face must have looked. Poor old man!

Midorima doesn’t utter a word. Just stares at him blankly, blinking occasionally.

“That’s about it,” Ootsubo concludes. “If you get it, then pull your shit together and get a… Hold on, where’re you off to? Hey!”

Midorima bolts for the door without even looking his way. Ootsubo barely catches up to him at the exit.

“Wait just a damn minute!” he grabs the other boy by the elbow. “Don’t freak out now. It’s already started. We’ll go back to the inn together, but we gotta be careful.”

“I’m not going back to the inn.”

“Wha..?!”

“You said it yourself, didn’t you?” Midorima yanks his arm free. Before Ootsubo can react he’s already outside. The streams of rain attack him violently, drenching his shirt and hair. “His head is hurt and he is out there alone. He probably can’t come back even if he wants to.”

“Are you on about Takao?”

“I’m going to look for him.”

Midorima’s glasses are wet and foggy. He tries to slip them in his pocket, but drops them into the mud.

“You are not going anywhere,” Ootsubo tries to out-shout the wind. “I said I’d bring you back with me and I will, even if I have to drag you there. Miyaji and Kimura have probably already found him anyway.”

Midorima still looks hesitant. He turns to look into the darkness of the stormy evening, where wind bends the trees and chills the bodies of anyone it can get its clutches on, to the bone.

“Miyaji-senpai?” he repeats finally.

“Yeah, he promised he’d take care of it. Come on, It’s late to play a hero now. You’ll just have to apologize like a normal person when you see them.”

_-xoxoxo-_

In the end they barely make it in time for the departure.

Turns out the bus had to go around several times before everyone could be dropped off in front of the rundown local school. Together with Midorima they barely make the last ride. They don’t even have the time to pack anything. Nakatani glares at them, but the chaos is just too great for him to spare the time for lecturing.

Apparently, the school building was not reserved by the owner of the inn exclusively. Instead, all of the locals, who had trouble to find refuge were all directed here, so by the time Ootsubo drags Midorima and last couple of first years through the gate, the school entrance hall is packed with old ladies, crying kids and middle-aged men with red faces who smell like sake and gawk at the buzz around them in drunk stupor.

Led by Nakatani, they push their way to one of the classrooms, where they find the rest of the team. Most of it is glued to the window, trying to catch a glimpse of something outside.

In the back corner Kimura sees them and waves his hand.

“So you made it,” he pats Ootsubo on the back.

“Somehow. How are things on your end?”

“A bit rowdy and it’s cramped in here, but we’re all fine. Everyone’s just waiting to see what happens now. First years seem more hyper than scared, though.”

“Well, that’s good news at least.”

“Ya bet!” Miyaji pops up behind Kimura, wet from head to toe. “It better be, I didn’t run around helping the brats pack for nothin’, ya know.”

He takes off his shirt and starts wringing it out. Then suddenly looks them over and goes, “Hey, where’s Takao?”

“What do you mean ‘where’?” Ootsubo furrows his eyebrows at him. “You said, you’d take care of everything.”

Miyaji blinks.

“No,…” he says slowly, “I said we’d take care of everything around moving the remaining members to the school grounds. _You_ said, you’ll bring back our runaway.”

“I meant Midorima. And he’s here now.”

“…”

“…So Takao is not with you?”

What is that strained hoarse sound? Is that Midorima’s voice? Ootsubo looks over his shoulder and his heart sinks. Midorima is pale as a ghost, only two green eyes are burning feverishly.

“He is not here? Not with you? Are you saying no one has seen him since… since he ran out back then?”

Miyaji looks helplessly at Kimura, who only shakes his head.

“I.. I’m going….” the rest of Midorima’s words is swallowed by the thunder. The ruckus is ear shuttering and for the next moment everything in the room freezes in a bright flash of lightning.

Ootsubo can’t hear him, but thankfully it’s not difficult to read him. He grabs Midorima’s arm just as he is about to head back for the door.

“No!”

“Let go of me,” Midorima glares at him. The look in his eyes is truly frightening.

“There is a fucking _typhoon_ outside,” Ootsubo protests. “You are not going anywhere.”

“You said, they would bring him back! You said they promised. But he’s out there right now, with his head bleeding. Let go.” His voice is like solid ice, but his body is starting to tremble. Ootsubo can feel the shivers run under his fingers.

“Calm down! Takao is not an idiot. He’s not going to stay outside with trashcans flying around. He’s probably already…”

“You don’t _get_ it!” Midorima forcefully jerks himself free, “It’s _my_ fault! I said some stuff to him and I pushed him and… He’s probably still mad right now, and he’s _injured_.. I’m going, don’t try to stop me.” He turns on his heels ready to storm out.

Luckily, Miyaji sees that coming and manages to insert himself between Midorima and the door before he gets very far.

“Settle down!” he yells in Midorima’s face. “Ya think we’re just gonna lettcha go wonderin’ out there too? It’s enough one idiot’s missin’. Where’d you go lookin’ for ‘im, huh?!”

“Out of my way, Senpai,” Midorima all but growls at him.

But that only serves to spur Miyaji on.

“Oh, shut up! Look attcha getting’ yer panties in the bunch. Whattcha gonna do? Break _my_ head too now?..”

It seems that all of them are hitting their limits. Midorima may be pigheaded and stubborn sometimes, but he’s never rude and he never panics. And Miyaji eager to get into a fight for the second time in one day is just too crazy. He’s gotta put a stop to it before someone causes the damage that cannot be undone.

“Okay, that’s enough, you two!” Ootsubo barks in his captain voice. “Kimura hold him down!”

He’s just in time.

Kimura gets a hold of Miyaji just when he swings his fist into Midorima’s face. Thanks to that it barely grazes his cheek, but Midorima stumbles backwards slipping on his own wet trail.

He crashes to the ground right under Nakatani’s feet.

“What in the world is going on here?!”

The old man has been giving out orders to the first years a moment ago, but now they have his undivided attention.

“I demand an explanation, Miyaji-kun.”

“That’s ‘cause he’s a bast– I mean, my bad,” he wiggles out of Kimura’s hold and rewards Midorima with a dirty glare. “I’ll go cool my head in the hall for a bit. Sorry ‘bout that.”

Ootsubo massages his hurting temples.

“Coach, there’s been a mess up…”

“We are missing Takao,” Midorima interrupts him. He scrambles to his feet and turns to face Nakatani. “It’s my fault. I will take full responsibility and go look for him right away.”

He doesn’t even flinch under Nakatani’s heavy gaze.

Finally the old man shrugs his shoulders. “I agree…”

“Coach!”

“… with Ootsubo-kun. You are staying here.”

“But!..”

“Absolutely not. If Takao-kun is missing, then I will notify the authorities, but you are not leaving the school grounds.”

“You don’t understand!”

“End of discussion. Don’t take your eyes off of him, Ootsubo-kun.”

…

“Look, about that Takao thing,.. sorry. I thought we had him. I’m the one at fault.”

Ootsubo sits next to Midorima and hands him a bottle of water, they were distributing earlier in the entrance hall. It’s not that soup stuff the guy usually drinks, but it’s better than nothing.

Midorima hasn’t moved an inch from the window for the last half an hour and the look in his eyes begins to look more and more like back then, when Ootsubo put him up for the night.

“You haven’t done anything wrong, Captain,” Midorima says without looking at him and Ootsubo almost flinches from how disheartened he sounds. “I was the one, who.. You know, he’ll probably never forgive me this time.”

“Well, anyone can get rough once in a while. Just don’t make a habit out of it.”

“No, that’s not it. I’m not talking about his head. Takao fell and hit it on the bed pole.”

Oh? Miyaji will be thrilled.

“But I did hurt him.” Midorima clenches his fists and unclenches them helplessly. “Much more than I intended too.”

Well, how should he say this? _Should_ he even say this? Aah, to hell with it all!

“It’s probably not a question of forgiveness, right? I bet, right now Takao is the one who blames himself for.. being too rushed with you. Because he’s always impulsive. That’s why he’s got problems with his timing.”

Midorima finally looks at him. Carefully, from the cover of his bangs.

“His timing in…. _basketball_?” he accents the last word.

“…Right,” Ootsubo elbows him lightly in the side. “That too. Anyway, I’m sure it will work out in the end one way or another. You two will be fine.”

Geez, he feels like a father giving his blessing to the newlyweds, or something. They better get something going, before this conversation becomes any weirder.

“You know what, we should take a look around. Even if he didn’t come in with our group, doesn’t mean he couldn’t come on his own. Takao is a smart kid, he might just very well be somewhere in this building.”

“…Why?”

Ootsubo stops already half-turned around.

“Why what?”

“Why do you think we’ll be fine?”

“That’s… because you’re his ‘Shin-chan’, right?… Come on, hurry it up.”

They make their way through the crowd with their elbows. Ootsubo stares strictly in front of him, so he wouldn’t be treated to the sight of a blush on Midorima’s face more than necessary. He himself can’t quite believe, he said something so embarrassing. He doesn’t even _want_ those two to get closer. There would never be the end to the troubles if they did. And he still doesn’t want to picture it. But somehow he feels like he doesn’t have a choice.

“Hey, don’t be such a slowpoke,” he twists his neck to look back after all. “Remember, I’m supposed to keep an eye…. on you…”

Ootsubo freezes on the spot. He can see some of the club members wondering around. An older lady is weeping openly, holding her cat, two children are playing tag,… but there is not sign of the green shock of hair.

“Midorima?..”

Ootsubo suddenly has an ominous feeling twisting his gut.

“Shit!.. Excuse me!” He frantically elbows his way to the nearest window.

The splashes of water are attacking the glass from the other side, making it vibrate slightly. Outside everything is dark. But it’s not the kind of quiet darkness of the night. Instead, it’s alive, it’s moving, crawling and howling like a wild animal on the hunt.

If he was even a moment later he probably would have missed it. A dark figure running in the opposite direction from the safety of the school building. Ootsubo can’t make out much more than a tall shape, but he doesn’t have to.

“That idiot! That fucking retard!” He slams his fist into the wall and swears loudly.

He can’t believe it, he screwed up again. The coach will make him into shoes.

_-tbc-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter, but here's the thing guys, up until now all of the 'As Luck' chapters have already been written, however I'm yet to finish the last one or two chapters. So it might take me a while to update. Hopefully, I'll be able to pull it off before you come after me with threats. I really love this story (it's pretty much like a TakaMido baby to me by now), so I want to believe I will be able to finish in a way that won't disappoint anybody, myself included. For now, pls be patient and let me know what you think of it so far. I find your comments very encouraging. -xo-

**Author's Note:**

> Midorima belongs to Takao and Kurobasu to Fujimaki Tadatoshi


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